A Crack in the Prism of Destiny
by Shadow Master
Summary: (BtVS/Star Trek Universe/West Wing/SG1)[YAHF] Everyone loves a story about adventurers braving new frontiers and overcoming unknown dangers. However for one omnipotent being there are some changes he thinks just have to be made.
1. Chapter 1

"A Crack in the Prism of Destiny" by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Star Trek Universe/West Wing/SG1)

email: ryley[underscore]breen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no one filed any lawsuits against me because I can promise you that you'll not get even a tenth of your legal fees back.

Note: In terms of timeline this'll take place on the infamous BtVS Halloween episode, near the beginning of the Stargate movie and when Josiah Bartlet is still governor of New Hampshire.

Note 2: For those of you who believe that the slightest deviation from canon is sacrilege you'll probably want to turn around and find another story. If any of you don't like stories where the Scoobies become too important/influential/powerful then it'd probably be best if you find another story because while I too have limits to how much I can tolerate in those areas they're a bit higher than most people. Also I will be adjusting the airing dates of the shows 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' and 'Star Trek: Deep Space 9' in order to make things fit better with the story I want to tell. Bottom line? If you don't like changes that contradict/ignore canon then this isn't the story for you.

 _ **A Crack in the Prism of Destiny**_

 _ **March 19**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2008**_

 _ **SGC, Earth**_

"It's kinda weird not having a big bad guy to fight anymore," Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell said as the five members of SG-1 walked down the corridor, dressed for their next mission.

"Yeah, that's how we felt when we defeated the Goa'uld. And the Replicators. The first time," Lieutenant Colonel Carter said, walking in stride next to the man.

"Well, Jackson and Vala took care of that," Mitchell said with a smirk as they turned a corner towards the side entrance to the embarkation room.

"That whole Ori thing was not our fault!" Vala protested from behind, clearly opposed to accepting any kind of responsibility for what had occurred so long ago.

"Just take the blame," Doctor Daniel Jackson said, sounding like he'd long since been resigned to receiving the blame for the matter. "You get used to it."

"We played a big part in fixing the problem!" Vala said, clearly intending to put up more of a fight than the man.

"That you did," Mitchell said, not willing to deny that Jackson and Vala did play a large role in the defeat of the Ori.

"There are many planets in our gate system that remain unexplored," Teal'c stated as they entered the Gate Room, stopping with the rest of the team at the bottom of the ramp.

"Yes, let's see what mysteries P3K-546 holds!" Daniel said with a bit of faux enthusiasm.

"And what treasure!" Vala said with equal fake cheer.

"I'm sure something will come up," Mitchell said with his hands resting on his P-90. "Walter! Hit it!"

With those words one adventure ended and another began.

As had been done countless times before the inner wheel of the Alteran device began to spin and every so often one of the numerous triangular crystals lit up. One after another it occurred until the seventh and final crystal lit up, bringing about a massive surge of energy causing blue energy to surge from the inner edges of the ring towards the very center. When the energy impacted it erupted outwards towards the team, stopping just shy of the bottom of the ramp before reversing course to create a rippling pool. Once this occurred the team known as SG-1 ascended up the ramp and, without any pause in their stride, walked through the pool of water, disappearing from sight. Almost all of those who saw them leave wondered what new sights they'd see, what new race they might encounter, but one observer had different thoughts.

"Well, these humans seem to enjoy close calls," the man said as he strode out of hiding, completely ignored by those around him as he assumed the spot at the bottom of the ramp. "A little too close for my tastes."

Not that he wasn't amused by their adventures, since they were definitely more prone to drama and excitement than the ones he was used to playing with. However the fact that they meddled in matters of galactic importance when they possessed neither the scientific prowess nor the experience needed to survive such close calls for very long worried him. Skate repeatedly too close to the edge and sooner or later you'd make a mistake, plummeting off the side into oblivion. Now normally he wouldn't care all that much if a species condemned themselves to oblivion but, when they could potentially doom their entire quantum reality in the process, that just wouldn't do. The close call with those building block versions of Pinochio and the Alteran weapon on Dakara was proof enough that even the primitive humans of the reality could cause great devastation. Indeed, that was why he had been sent here by his oh so boring brethren to evaluate the situation in order to determine if action should be taken.

Not that he'd be the one to determine what that course of action should be or carry out the action.

Despite the bothersome attempts by him to 'atone' for his past romps through his favorite quantum reality, many among his people still thought he should be kept from important matters. They would likely oppose any proposal that included him being the one to correct certain flaws in this particular quantum reality. It made him consider putting forth all the effort he could into convincing them to give him the lead position on remedying things, just so he could turn around and do something that would really 'raise their blood pressure', as the humans say.

Then again, acting all stuffy and proper for any length of time would be hard for him and probably would sound rather fake to anyone who heard him speak or saw him move.

 _Then I guess it's better that I don't waste my time or anyone else's,_ he thought with a smile that'd made many a puny species run away screaming in terror manifesting on his face.

"What are you doing here?!" a female voice asked to his right, stopping him from utilizing his customary means of travel.

He rolled his eyes as his senses informed him of both who had spoken as well as what her species was, neither of which improved his mood. Turning his head to confirm what he already knew he saw a woman that should've been an entire galaxy away chained to a single world as punishment for a past transgression. Much like him she had chosen to defy the customs of her people in order to do what she thought was right. This had initially made him like her but, as the centuries had rolled by without any attempt on her part to break her chains, that positive emotion turned to contempt. Both of them knew all too well that there was a way she could acquire the necessary power to do it but, thanks to her beliefs, she refused to take advantage of that method.

She failed to see that the negative side effects of that method would be minimal since she'd only have one planet to work with rather than many.

"Chaya, my dear!" he said, almost sounding like he was greeting an old friend save for a hint of mocking hidden beneath the surface. "It's been a long time. I must say you're a little far from home. I'm surprised your 'family' let you stray so far."

"My 'family' as you put it, are the ones who sent me here," Chaya said, not bothering to hide her displeasure. "As you know they dislike interacting with those less evolved than they are and my… status… provided them a means of investigating the matter with minimal risk of unjustifiable influence. Now answer the question: WHAT are you doing HERE?!"

"Well, I was just strolling through the quantum ocean and noticed these humans, SG-1, rearranging the galactic landscape, so I decided to take a look around," he replied, keeping close enough to the truth to be believable while still keeping the more sensitive bits to himself. "Rather interesting, aren't they? One little discovery and in a matter of ten years they rise to become the dominant power in one galaxy and make significant waves in another."

"They're young but they have the potential to surpass my people. Eventually," Chaya said, sounding like she was still suspicious of him but admired the local humans.

"Yes, well, I'm a little concerned that 'eventually' might not be quick enough for them," he said, deciding he'd test the waters a little after a moment and decided a change was needed. "But let's move this conversation someplace a little more private."

Bringing up his right hand, he waited until just after the light of realization appeared in her eyes before snapping his fingers, causing the two of them to vanish from the SGC in a flash of light.

The last thing Chaya managed so say before vanishing was a single letter spoken with great objection.

Q.

 _ **The Quantum Stream**_

 _ **Chaya's POV**_

"Wha-? Where?" she asked as she looked about to find out where she'd been taken.

She was not prepared for what she found.

All about her there were scattered strands of light; some running parallel to each other while others intersected at certain points, with more colors involved than she thought existed. It was… breathtaking… and almost managed to distract her completely from what she'd been sent to do, but she managed to tear her eyes away from the sight.

"Welcome to the Quantum Stream," Q said with a bit of flourish, his arms spread wide. "We are officially outside of all known quantum realities. We should be able to discuss things without those bores of yours eavesdropping."

"Discuss what 'things'?" she asked, suspicious about what the obnoxious being was planning.

Her people had known of the Q continuum for quite a long time, given that the members of that race had visited her native quantum reality before. Some had been almost respectable while this one, if it was indeed the same individual she'd met centuries ago, had proven to be obnoxious and a pest. He'd caused quite a bit of chaos on her world before one of his own stepped in to set things right and convince him to leave. It was because of this previous contact and the fact that she no longer 'lived' with them that she'd been chosen to speak with him. The fact that he'd taken her to a plane of existence beyond what the Others could perceive, never mind monitor, implied that his proposal was something they'd disapprove of.

"Oh, the little fact that your people's policy of noninterference is running the risk of wiping out their quantum thread," Q replied, reaching out with one hand to almost but not quite touch one of the threads. "By leaving threats like the Replicators, the Ori and the Goa'uld to the humans of the SGC to handle, they've allowed your thread to come VERY close to oblivion. A lot closer than the humans have imagined in their darkest nightmares. Luck only lasts so long, after all."

As much as she wanted to disagree, she had to admit that she often found the rigid code of noninterference her people lived by to be… cold. She understood what they were afraid of, that they'd become like the Ori eventually, but she believed that there had to be a way they could still lend a hand to the younger races. Like Q had said, the younger races were indeed doing the best they could to advance towards Ascension but they were taking many risks in the effort. In games of risk luck played as much a factor as preparation and skill.

Too bad luck came in both good and bad flavors, with the former never lasting forever.

"I'll admit that they could do more to keeping the younger races from making… complicated mistakes," she admitted before choosing to probe a bit. "What do you think should be done?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Q exclaimed joyfully, a smile on his face. "I've gone up and down the timeline of this quantum thread, watched SG-1, and I have come to one inescapable conclusion: there're better people for the job."

"Your solution is to recruit others to handle the threats the SGC has dealt with?" she asked, thinking that the idea was a little extreme. "Who? Members of another race?"

"No. The humans of your thread's Earth are still the most likely candidates," Q replied with a slight shake of his head. "They just need to be more… open minded, more a lot of things, actually. Hmmmm… I wonder."

At the speed of thought all the other strands vanished until only one was visible to her and, while she had no real evidence to support this, she presumed that this was her native quantum reality she was looking at. Then, much to her surprise, she saw Q reach out and with one finger touch the thread, causing a minimal collision of energy that looked like a ripple in a pond. She was worried that this could cause damage but, when nothing changed in the thread's appearance, much less its existence, she tentatively decided to let him have a little more time.

An indeterminate amount of time later he withdrew his finger but the look of glee on his face made her feel like she did when she'd been a normal Alteran faced with a predator that could kill her if she blinked wrong.

"I think I've found just the people for the job," Q said, sounding quite pleased with what he found. "A little group from the same rough time period as the SGC but they're a little more used to dealing with the strange and the bizarre. Want to go pay them a visit?"

For a moment she considered saying no and asking to be sent back home, if only to avoid getting any deeper into what would likely be a venture that'd cause an uproar both among the Others and the Q continuum. However then she realized that if she did so, the Others might hold her partially responsible for whatever Q did because she wasn't there to stop him, or at least moderate his actions. Caught between being seen as an accomplice or a coward, she decided that if she was going to get into trouble she might as well go all the way.

"Sure. Just explain what you plan on doing before you do it," she said, hoping that, so long as she had advance knowledge of what the pest of a being had planned, she could… advise restraint.

"Why I wouldn't DREAM of leaving you in the dark, my dear!" Q declared as though the idea of withholding information was abhorrent to him.

With a snap of his fingers they were gone once more only to reappear in a town that certainly fit with what she'd seen in Sheppard's mind, including the fact that she was his home country of America. However what caught her attention more was the miasma of demonic energy that blanketed the town because, while not unknown to her people, such energy was rarely encountered. During the height of the Alteran people they even knew how to seal any apertures they found, neutralizing them and preventing any hostile races from gaining a foothold. To find one on Earth was troubling, especially since in this time period they didn't have the technology to seal such apertures.

"Don't worry too much, Chaya my dear," Q said as he looked about the town for a few moments. "Dimensional apertures like this have been around on Earth for thousands of years yet the humans here have survived nonetheless. In fact it's because of the energy and the creatures that are drawn to it that I think the humans I've chosen will do the best job at handling what's 'out there'."

"Isn't that a little dangerous?" she asked even as she used her powers to dull the bite of the unnatural energy on her senses. "If your plan is to select demon hunters or those used to interacting with them, they might even make matters worse. 'Kill first ask questions never' is usually the response, if Sheppard's memories are correct."

"Only if I were choosing just any demon hunters for the job," Q said dismissively as he finished examining the town. "This group is a bit more interesting than the rest of their primitive clique."

Another snap of his fingers and she found herself in what appeared to be a library… and the focal point of the dark energy that the town was immersed in. Though it was a risk, she tapped further into her powers to keep the demonic energy from tainting her being and hoped it would not attract the Others from this time period. Fortunately it'd likely confuse them since they'd be able to sense one version on her home world and another one on Earth. With any luck they would remain confused until Q did whatever it was he planned to do and after that they'd be too taken aback by the chaos that would surely follow to keep them from interfering in their departure.

Turning her gaze to the room's occupants, she saw two men and two women but they were a rather unusual assortment. One older man who looked to be in his mid-forties, a young man with dark hair and brown eyes, a young woman with long red hair and a young blonde woman. At first she could not detect anything special about them and certainly nothing that could have attracted Q's interest, but when she looked deeper she was shocked to see demonic energy inside of the young blonde woman. Not enough to overly influence her thought processes or behavior but certainly enough to enhance her physical abilities, not to mention bestow a degree of enhanced regenerative ability.

"What is she?" she asked as she walked unseen to the mortals around the blonde girl.

"SHE is what would be referred to as the Slayer. The latest in a line of young ladies selected by an ancient bit of human 'magic' to act as an assassin of the hostile extra-dimensional entities," Q said, showing complete disrespect for the humans' understanding of bio-energy manipulation. "Usually they are found and mentored by a group called the Watcher's Council at a young age. Trained in the ways of combat and educated on the prey duty will insist they slay, they often become obedient little attack dogs. Usually."

"I take it this one is different?" she asked as she idly looked at the books the group was looking through.

"VERY. Unlike most of the brainwashed minions the Council has helped over the centuries, Elizabeth 'Buffy' Summers led a full and rewarding life before the energy within her was activated. As a result she was RICH with American independence and concepts of free will when they found her two and half years ago," Q said, sounding like he approved significantly. "Every attempt by 'G-Man' here to turn her into a more Council-approved Slayer has failed. She's quite determined to live her life as she sees fit and only hunts the 'demons and vampires' because she'd feel guilty if anyone died because she didn't do anything."

"She must not be very effective, then," she said, believing that someone being forced to do something was generally less effective than someone doing something willingly.

"Quite the contrary, actually. She will go on to kill demons no Council-trained Slayer could have and will actually make it to old age," Q said with a smirk, looking her in the eye.

"That isn't too impressive. With the abilities I'm sensing and the proper training, anyone with these abilities could live to old age," she said after a moment's consideration.

"Actually the average lifespan of a young lady once Called is a year or two," Q said, making it clear he found it unimpressive. "If one of them successfully survived for three years they were considered gifted. Of course the other reason why most of them didn't live more than three years was because of the 'Cruciamentum'."

"The Cruciamentum?" she asked, not familiar with the term.

"An ancient Watcher's Council practice by which, on a Slayer's eighteenth birthday, they secretly administer a combination of muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressors to the girl. Once she's no more powerful than any other human they throw her into a building with a carefully selected vampire," Q replied as he laid out the facts with disapproval.

"That's barbaric!" she exclaimed as she imagined an ordinary human girl being left to the mercy of a bloodthirsty demon.

"Officially it was stated that the Cruciamentum was meant as a way for the Slayer to prove her cunning and resourcefulness in a way that could never be questioned again," Q said, like he personally didn't care one way or another. "Sadly all but a few of them since their line began successfully managed to pass the test. So you see, Chaya, it is indeed something of an achievement that Miss Summers managed to live long enough to become a grandmother."

For a time she said nothing as she contemplated what she'd heard as well as what Q intended to change with the help of these four humans. The life of a demon hunter was filled with strife and pain. Even if Miss Summers managed to survive to old age, that did not mean that the others in this room would and their loss would affect the young woman. When added to the potential risk to an entire quantum reality, she found herself willing to consider aiding Q in his efforts.

"What do you intend to do with them?" she asked in a reasonable and open tone of voice.

"To bring change through the looking glass and give them a choice," Q replied in a mysterious tone. "But first we have a little prep work. Care to help?"

With only a moment's hesitation she nodded and with that they flashed out of the room to prepare for the changes they wished to bring about.

 _ **Sunnydale High School**_

 _ **Halloween, After School**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"Alright ladies! Show'em or fold'em!" he said as he waited just outside the school gates with a smile on his face.

He didn't really need to see the scores they'd gotten on their tests to know that he'd won their little bet but he couldn't help but feel a little excited at the idea of his triumph. It'd been a little under two weeks ago that one of the regular talks in the library had turned a little heated when a careless comment by Buffy about his ability to translate one of Giles' books got out of hand. Looking back on it he knew that she hadn't meant to hurt his feelings but she had just the same. He'd gotten angry and said that he could be just as smart as Willow if he chose to apply himself… maybe even smarter. Buffy had giggled at that and, when he'd looked at Willow, she hadn't said anything to support the Slayer but neither had she opposed the blonde's position.

That'd hurt more than he could admit to anyone, much less to himself.

So in a moment of thoughtlessness he'd challenged the two of them to a competition of sorts, with the stakes being that if he won that he'd be the one to choose their Halloween costumes. They'd originally planned to just stay in, watch horror movies and pick at the treat bowls at Buffy's place but the Slayer changed her mind. She wanted them all to go to the Bronze Halloween night and party hearty. She'd told them that there was even a contest being held there for the best costume worth five hundred dollars and a year of free drinks from the club, so it'd been enough to sell him and Willow on the idea. They'd debated every day what each of them should wear in order to win the contest but, as of the night he'd issued the challenge, they hadn't agreed on anything. They'd all agreed on a single theme since it'd give them the best chance of winning the contest and its associated prizes. Buffy had wanted them to all go as eighteenth century nobles but he'd immediately X-ed out that idea since he'd known all too well why she'd picked that theme.

Deadboy.

Even though he no longer had romantic feelings for her, that little strip pole dance she'd done for Angel had cured him of that, he still saw her as a friend and so it bothered him more than little that she was pursuing such a doomed relationship. Angel was nothing more than a corpse animated by a demonic spirit. That meant no children since the vamp was firing blanks. He'd outlive her by decades, if not centuries, as long as he continued to drunk a steady supply of blood. Thanks to his allergy to sunlight Deadboy would either have to cover up head to toe or the two of them would have to restrict any joint activities to nighttime. Then, of course, there was the fact that he was decidedly older than her and not just in body. Angel had lived for decades and had almost certainly had learned a great many things, experienced a great many things, that had changed him in any one of a number of ways.

Couldn't Buffy see that to Deadboy she might as well have been an innocent child? That his… infatuation with her wouldn't last?

Given how passionately she'd argued for the nobles theme he had a feeling it'd take the mother of all shocks to her system to convince her that her 'storybook romance' wouldn't last.

Willow, on the other hand, had suggested that they all dress up as various ghosts and spirits but he knew that was just because she wanted to stick with her traditional costume. Every year for as long as he could remember his best friend had always chosen to go as a ghost but it wasn't because she had a thing for ghosts. It was because the costume allowed her to hide her identity from anyone who saw her and in doing so avoid the bullies and bitches that normally harassed her at school. Neither he nor Buffy had approved of this idea on the grounds that it was too ordinary and not cool enough. He suspected that the reason Buffy had for opposing the spirit theme was the same as his: Willow needed to come out of her shell and be more confident and outgoing. As much as he reckoned the two of them understood her shyness, neither of them believed she'd get anywhere if she always hid or did her best not to be noticed.

He'd proposed a sci-fi theme but naturally this had been shot down since both Willow and Buffy had presumed that he'd choose something skintight or revealing for them to wear. They hadn't been entirely wrong. He'd tried to convince them that it'd increase the odds of them winning the prize since it was a proven fact that sex appeal got votes. Of course they'd gone on the whole feminist kick about the objectification of women and how guys did all their thinking with their dicks.

Eventually all of them had decided to table the matter until later.

Now though he had them cornered and VICTORY was within his reach.

"Xan… can't we talk things out? Compromise a little?" Willow asked, sounding like she was trying to wiggle her way out of defeat… metaphorically speaking.

"You agreed to the bet, Willow," he replied, shaking his head. "A good person holds up their end no matter what."

"C'mon, Xander!" Buffy pleaded, glancing at the three sheet test in her hands. "You wouldn't humiliate your friends, would you?"

"I know it might come as something of a surprise to you guys but men don't just think of sex and girls in bikinis. I am completely capable of picking out tasteful costumes," he replied honestly since he'd already chosen to exclude certain costume possibilities from his mind… reluctantly. "Now show me what you got on your tests."

The two of them looked at each other before slumping in defeat and turning both their tests around so that he could see what scores they'd gotten.

Buffy had managed to get a respectable B plus on her test and, much like he'd expected, Willow had managed a B plus.

Too bad it didn't trump his A plus!

"YES! YesyesyesyesyesYES!" he declared before going into the Snoopy dance, uncaring if any other student saw him do it.

Once he finished he showed them his test and the score written in red ink in the upper right hand corner, relishing in their looks of defeat. Willow held out her hand, obviously wanting to look over his test in order to ensure the accuracy of the grade. He didn't blame her, he'd been surprised himself when he'd seen it, but then again he'd put more effort into studying for this particular test than he had any previous one. He'd been determined to prove that he wasn't as limited as either of them thought and that had given him the resolve to stick to the books instead of letting the distractions get the better of him.

Now it was time to collect on their little wager.

"Let's get going!" he said as he turned halfway away from the school gate. "We've only got an hour and a half before we gotta be back here for escort duty."

"Fine! Let's get this over with," Buffy groused, clearly still expecting the worst from him in terms of costume choice.

He didn't let it get him down, though.

He'd won the bet! That was all that mattered.

With a spring in his step he led them in the direction Sunnydale's business district, where they'd found out that a new costume shop had opened and was offering great grand opening deals. He figured it was his best bet for a good deal on a decent costume especially since he could afford one now thanks to a bet he'd made with Cordelia that he could get a score of A or higher on the test. It was true that he could've roped her into the costume bet and it definitely would've been sweet but he'd decided to go with the cash reward instead. It was less likely to inspire retaliation down the line and it'd net him a better Halloween costume than the army surplus fatigues and toy gun that was his original plan. He had a few ideas about what he'd like to dress up as and one or two for both Willow and Buffy, but he'd have to wait to see what the shop had available.

It was called 'Ethan's Costume Shop' if he remembered correctly.

 _ **Ethan's Costume Shop**_

 _ **Willow's POV**_

 _I hope Xander doesn't get any weird ideas,_ she thought as she followed her best friend and Buffy through the aisles of costumes and accessories.

Sure, he'd told her and Buffy that she wouldn't go too far with his costume choices but he was a guy who currently had free reign thanks to a bet to choose anything he liked. That put an awful lot of temptation at his feet and she wasn't sure if he'd be strong enough to resist it if certain possibilities presented themselves, ones like the Princess Leia slave girl outfit, a Supergirl costume or maybe something from a TV show.

She watched him carefully as he let his eyes pass over every clothes hanger that had a costume on it, pausing at random to get a better look at one before moving on, but thus far there'd been nothing resembling a choice. To be perfectly honest it was seriously wearing down her nerves waiting for Xander to make his choice and she could see that Buffy wasn't much better off. Looking around the shop, she could see that the grand opening sales had drawn in quite the large number of people but thankfully it wasn't so packed that getting around was a problem. Considering that some of the display dummies had signs that said 'half off', she wasn't surprised that there were a lot of people looking to cash in.

 _These deals should help Xander,_ she thought as she continued to follow her friend. _I know he's not exactly overflowing with money._

When five minutes had gone by she knew that Buffy was going to start asking Xander to just FIND something or else the Slayer would MAKE him choose. Fortunately something caught her best friend's eye because his gaze jerked to the left and then he picked up the pace as he crossed the room to a rack of costumes hanging next to a wall. She couldn't tell what they were at first but as she got closer a feeling of familiarity came over her first with the color combination used in the majority of the costumes, then in their layout. Even after the three of them finally arrived at their destination she couldn't quite identify them but the feeling of familiarity was maddening, like the answer was right at the tip of her tongue.

She didn't have to wait long to get what she needed to knock it off her tongue because with one quick movement Xander plucked one off the rack revealing it in all its glory.

A Starfleet uniform!

From what she could tell it looked like the red, white and black one that the original show crew wore from the second movie onwards. This one had a white strip of cloth over the right shoulder and, if she remembered correctly, this meant that it was a command division uniform. She wasn't quite sure what divisions they represented but she knew they came in white, yellow ochre, light green, grey, Windsor green and red. As for the rank insignia, she believed that it was for an admiral but she couldn't be certain since it'd been hard to see clearly with the actors moving about and the camera not focusing on them for too long. Watching as Xander held up the uniform in front of him, she tried to picture what he'd look like wearing it and she saw had her greatly favoring it.

"Lookin' good, Admiral!" she said with approval and a smile on her face.

"Admiral?" he asked taking the costume away from his body to look at the other side.

"Yeah. You see these four stars pointing to the center diamond?" she asked, pointing to the rank insignia on the white strip of cloth. "That's the same rank insignia that Kirk had on his uniform when everyone was calling him Admiral."

"Yeah, it kinda looks like that. I wasn't paying that close attention," Xander admitted, paying closer attention to the costume and no doubt consulting his memory. "I wonder what else they have here."

With that in mind Xander put the costume back on the rack before looking through the others. From what she could see there were at least eight Starfleet uniforms from the same era as the one that Xander had picked up before. After going through those she saw a few of the more modern ones from 'Star Trek: the Next Generation' and even a few from 'Star Trek: Deep Space Nine'. Some had the pips on the collar showing rank just like the Kirk era ones but not all of them. All in all they looked rather well done, quality costumes, rather than the cheap kind that were made with the intention of only lasting a few weeks of use.

It was not until Xander turned to look at her and Buffy, though, that she KNEW he'd reached a decision regarding what they would be wearing chaperoning the kids around trick or treating.

"Ladies! I have found our costumes!" he said as he flipped through the costumes before taking off one of the Kirk era costumes before giving it to her. "One captain's uniform for you, Willow. We might need Mrs. S. to make it fit right."

Holding the costume she'd been handed up to her chest, she could tell that the sleeves were a bit long and, if the pants hanging out of the bottom were anything to go by, the pant legs would need to be shortened as well. Still, she was sure that Mrs. Summers could come up with something without irreversibly changing the costume. After all it needed to be returned tomorrow and she was pretty sure that the store owner wouldn't like one of his products being changed.

"Aaaand for you, Buffy, we have a nice uniform except for you it'll be an engineer's," he said, bringing down a uniform close to hers except it had a yellow strip in place of a white one as well as a yellow undershirt. "But don't worry, you won't be answering to Willow, 'cause you'll be a captain too."

Buffy didn't look thrilled at the uniform but she didn't look like she was going to fight it either. Unfortunately, if her uniform needed modifications, then Buffy's would need some serious work making her wonder if they should inquire if it'd be possible to buy the costumes outright. On a theory she looked through the rack to see if there was an engineering vest from the Kirk era that Buffy could wear instead. She'd seen Scotty wearing one in some of the movies and, if there was one, then the Slayer could just wear one of her dark pants from home. That way they could reduce the changes needed for the costume and reduce the risk of incurring fines or whatever upon returning the outfits.

Sadly, no matter where she looked, there were only the more common uniforms you'd see in the movies or on the television shows.

"What're you lookin' for, Willow?" Xander asked with a look of mild curiosity.

"Just thought Buffy might do better if she had that vest Scotty wore but it's not here," she replied with some disappointment.

"This'll be fine and, as you can see, these aren't the least bit skanky or pervy," he said as his familiar lopsided grin appeared. "Maybe you'll remember this the next time you think my home's in the gutter."

"We're sorry and we'll remember, Xan," she said with genuine remorse even as Buffy nodded in agreement.

"Good! Now let's go find ourselves some accessories!" he said before a look of mild surprise crossed his face. "Never thought I'd say THAT. Definitely need to get some guy friends."

She couldn't help but giggle at that comment since she knew he didn't mean anything mean by it, plus she did have to admit that he spent enough time with Buffy and her that some of their tendencies had rubbed off on him. Following him through the aisles things moved a great deal quicker than before because every few steps he reached out snagging something from a bin or a box resting in a shelf. He even grabbed two wigs off a pair of Styrofoam heads arrayed all in a row to one side of the store. She thought he might've been going a little overboard but then she remembered that the bet hadn't had any stipulations regarding how far the winner could go with the costume.

In the end it took a little under ten minutes for them to finally make it to the cash register and, once the owner rang up all the items, it turned out that they all had to pool their money in order to pay for it all. Still, they had their costumes and accessories divided by bag and, if they hurried, they could get to Buffy's place, change and then get to the school before Snyder's deadline.

Thinking about what she'd seen going into her bag, she had a pretty good idea of what Xander wanted her to pretend to be, or perhaps even whom. She understood how he'd probably come up with the pairing and honestly she didn't mind it much. It was certainly better than what she figured Buffy would've made her wear if she'd won their bet. She knew that the Slayer had been set on doing something to break her out of her shell AND give her a means by which she could finally attract Xander's romantic interest. However she'd been afraid that, in the blonde's zeal, she'd wind up wearing something way too sexy or revealing since a lot of the clothes she'd seen the 'pretty girls' wear involved far too little fabric for her tastes.

A Starfleet uniform that left only what was above the neck exposed suited her just fine.

 _I just hope this doesn't wind up making me even more of a target for Cordelia and the Cordettes,_ she thought as she remembered the main reason why she preferred her ghost costume.

 _ **Summers Houshold**_

 _ **Buffy's POV**_

 _I guess it could've been worse,_ the thought morosely as she pulled the yellowish shirt over her head. _Still, this is SOOO geeky._

Once the turtleneck like shirt was down she reached over for the jacket that was supposed to go on top of it and slipped it on. Of course that was when she ran into the problem of zipping it up since it wasn't designed like most of the jackets she was used to. It took some trial and error but eventually she figured out how it was supposed to be 'zipped up' and that led her to the accessories Xander had picked out.

First was a wig of red hair that reached about halfway down her back. According to Xander, the character profile he'd dreamt up needed it. Putting it on her head, she looked into her mirror to make sure it was set right on her head before she used the hair clips on the inside to secure it to her own blonde hair. She hoped that none of the kids that she'd be chaperoning around tonight got it into their heads to tug on the wig because a few blonde clumps would likely come off with it. Looking at her various haircare tools, she started doing what she could to style it a bit but stayed away from any sprays or styling gel. She had to return it tomorrow, after all, so it'd be best to return it in the same condition she received it.

 _There. It'd look too plain Jane on the catwalk in France but it'll do well enough for tonight,_ she thought, turning her head left then right to see how she'd look from both angles.

Moving onto the next part, she took a black belt with some kind of a symbol for a belt buckle off the bed and wrapped it around her waist. It had some holsters on it for the plastic ray gun and something that looked like a sci-fi cell phone. Thankfully, though, the shape of the holsters made it clear what went where so she had no trouble getting the last of her costume into place.

 _At least Xander didn't choose one of those short red mini-dresses they wore in the TV show,_ she thought, shuddering as she tried to forget how she would've looked in something like that.

Hearing footsteps coming from the bathroom, she turned to see Willow crossing the hallway to her room and what she saw made her wonder if her friend had gotten the better costume. A short black haired wig that looked neatly trimmed and groomed, extending no further down than the midpoint of the neck covered the top of her head. However the most noticeable changes from the neck up were the thick and blackened eyebrows that were upswept and the pointed ears. She might not have been a regular viewer of the Star Trek show but she could still recognize that Willow was dressed up as a member of the same race as the second in command who wore the blue shirt. The rest of the outfit was similar in appearance to her but there was also some sort of object that looked like a small purse with a strap that went around the neck. It was more of a case then a purse, though, and she'd seen how the top popped up to reveal buttons and knobs, making it clear that it was a device of some kind.

"While you wouldn't make the cover of Cosmo, this might actually succeed in hooking Xander," she said, walking around her friend and taking in the costume from all sides. "If you won't get him by wearing stuff that clings to the curves, then appealing to his inner geek is the next best thing. Play your cards right and this could work."

"I… I don't think that'd work. Vulcans don't exactly do the whole 'seduction thing'," Willow said, not sounding convinced. "Buried emotions and all that."

"Oh. Still, there's the whole 'ice queen' appeal you could make work for you," she said, not quite willing to admit defeat on the romantic front.

That included how she planned on going to the Bronze and hooking up with Angel.

She'd been so tempted to go back on the bet, since doing so would allow her to go with the costume idea she wanted. The dress of an eighteenth century noble woman would absolutely have impressed Angel, since they'd have been the sort of women he'd have been interested in when he was still human. She'd even tried to convince herself that Xander would only get her some skimpy spandex costume to wear since every guy she'd met liked seeing a girl's curves. When he chose these costumes, though, the only ammunition she'd had vanished and, not seeing a dress that fit the description she'd seen in some of the books acquired from Giles' personal library, she'd been left with no choice.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she had to admit it'd be hard to make this uniform work for her unless Angel turned out to be a closet fan of the show.

Considering his usual attire, she doubted that.

"I guess," Willow agreed, though without much enthusiasm.

"Let's go see if Xander's done," she said, deciding to move things along.

With Willow leading the way they went downstairs to where Xander was using the ground floor bathroom to change into his costume, with her mother volunteering to trim his hair a bit to make it look more militarish. Her mom had occasionally done it for her and dad but was by no means a professional at it. Still, she was confident that it wouldn't look like someone took a weed whacker to his head.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs she could hear talking coming from the kitchen and figured that Xan and her mother must have moved in there to cut the hair or put finishing touches on his costume. It didn't take her long to get within eyesight of them and she had to admit that, while still geeky, Xander looked quite handsome in the uniform. His hair didn't look too different from how it had before but it was definitely neater and looked like it'd been professionally done by a military barber.

"How do I look?" he asked, doing a quick spin so that both she and Willow could see all of him.

"Pretty good, ADMIRAL," she said, putting emphasis on his fictitious rank. "What do you think of me and Willow?"

"Well, Willow looks 'fascinating' and you look like someone who thinks 'more power' is the answer to everything," he replied with amusement.

Willow giggled a bit, obviously getting some kind of joke hidden in Xander's words, but it went right over her head.

"You all look wonderful," Mom said with a smile before moving over the kitchen counter. "Get together so I can take a picture."

"MOM!" she exclaimed with exasperation at the embarrassing idea.

"Come on! Just one," Mom said, picking up the camera that she'd obviously put there for this purpose. "Please!"

Rolling her eyes and sighing, she nodded in concession before taking up a picture worthy position next to Willow, allowing Xander to take the other side. With a smile that was only a little forced she waited for the camera flash and tried to keep her eyes from squinting when it did light up, since it was an automatic response to a bright light in the eyes. Her mother snuck in another picture before she could stop her but a sour look prevented any more freebies.

"See ya later, Mom." she said as she led the Scoobies towards the front door.

"Remember to be back by ten," Mom said at their retreating backs. "And try not to get into any trouble!"

"YES, MOM!" she yelled, only partially turning her head to look at her mother.

If she only knew that, while she obeyed curfew, she left through the bedroom window the second it was safe for her to do so without being spotted. However, just the same she'd probably obey her mother just this once since, according to Giles, Halloween was dead for the undead and there'd likely be no reason for her patrol. Stepping out of the house, she immediately wished that the costume was made out of lighter material because it definitely wasn't made with Californian weather in mind. Sure, things would get easier once the sun went down but it'd still be pretty hot and she'd still be pretty sweaty by the time she came home.

Sweat was definitely not going to help her chances with Angel later, so as soon as she finished with her group of kids to fend off Snyder she'd have to race home, shower and then get to the Bronze. She knew the club had air conditioning so, once she got inside, she'd be problem free when it came to spending some quality time with Angel.

 _Something to look forward to,_ she thought as they began to make their way down the street towards the school.

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _Well, this wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be,_ he thought as he waited for the kids in his group to come back from the latest house on the route they took.

He'd been expecting bratty kids doing their best to drive him up a wall or make it harder for him to make sure they all got back to the school by six like principal Snyder wanted. Instead they'd been mostly compliant with only a few annoying moments, but that'd been more due to their parents' upbringing making them think they had to antagonize 'geeks'. Fortunately, once he began teaching them the finer points of sleazing as much candy as possible from each house, they quickly forgot about making fun of him. Looking at the watch beneath his right sleeve, he could see that they had a little over half an hour before they had to be back at the school.

 _Two more houses and then we'll head back._

It was just as he heard the pitter-patter of elementary school feet he suddenly felt an oddness in the air that immediately had him on edge. It wasn't quite 'someone walking on your grave' or 'being watched by something unknown' but rather the sensation you got just before something BIG happened to change your life. He'd just decided to take the kids to hook up with Buffy and Willow's group to see if they'd felt the same thing when he saw someone that had him wondering if he'd inhaled some kind of hallucinogen.

After all, he couldn't be seeing John de Lancie in a Starfleet uniform waving at him like he was going away on some trip and the guy was wishing him a fond farewell.

Then disorientation overwhelmed him making all sensory input and even coherent thought a mess.

What happened next, though… it was weird even for Sunnydale.

"How…?" he whispered as he looked about the place where he found himself.

It was definitely different from where he'd been a moment ago.

The last thing he could recall he'd been aboard his ship, surrounded by shipmates that had been to hell and back with him. They'd just received orders from Starfleet Command to return to Spacedock so that the ship could be decommissioned, after which each of them would be reassigned to whatever post needed someone. For him… for him it was the end of a long and joyous career with the Fleet. Oh, he was sure that he could get posted someplace prestigious for another ten to twenty years but that wasn't the life he wanted to lead. He'd lived the life of a bureaucrat once before and never before had he been so certain that the place he wanted to be, the place where he could make the most difference, was in the captain's chair aboard a starship.

He'd retire once the last of his business was finished, then maybe find a hobby or something to fill his time with. He'd heard and seen plenty of things during the course of his life in Starfleet. He'd been sure that he could find something fulfilling and interesting enough to keep boredom at bay.

He hadn't expected to suddenly find himself… wherever here was.

From what he could tell by the plants and the stars overhead it looked as though he was on Earth but there was a lot that was off for him. The transports he could see lining either side of the road were centuries out of date, pre-eugenics war if his guess was right, and the lights also didn't match what had been common for anyone living on Earth. The biggest difference was that, last he checked, none of the little creatures running around matched alien races that'd chosen to make the seat of the Federation their home. Seeing a group of them aggressively approaching him, he immediately pulled his type two phaser pistol from its holster, setting it to stun, and then taking aim. He waited to see if the presence of a weapon would be enough to discourage the group from getting any closer. Unfortunately they were either not intelligent enough to recognize it as a threat or believed that they could overcome him despite it.

Aiming for the street a little ahead of them he fired a single shot, hoping that the energy from the discharge would prove more intimidating than the phaser pistol itself. Seeing them leap back in shock before scrambling away to likely find easier prey, he found his hunch rewarded but he still kept his weapon out of its holster just the same. Until he had a better idea of where he was and what was going on, he had to keep his guard up.

Taking his communicator out, flipping it open, he activated it. "Kirk to Enterprise."

Nothing.

"This is Admiral Kirk calling Enterprise. Respond, please," he said after adjusting the settings a little bit.

Nothing.

Either the ship was out of range, its communications systems offline, or… it'd been destroyed somehow. He rejected the last possibility because, despite the beating Enterprise had taken destroying the prototype Klingon Bird of Prey, it had still been fit for battle. With years of experience under their belt it'd take something or someone far superior to them or the Enterprise to destroy them. Therefore, until he had proof to the contrary, he'd assume that the Enterprise was still there but incapable of being communicated with for the time being. Adjusting the settings on the communicator he decided to try something else in order to see if he'd have better luck.

"This is Admiral James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise to any Starfleet personnel who can hear me. Please respond."

"Captain Scott here, Admiral," came a female voice with strong Scottish accent. "Though I appear to be a wee bit different from what I should be."

"Captain Spock here, Admiral," came another female voice devoid of emotion and sounding very logical. "If my hypothesis is correct I am experiencing a similar change to Mister Scott. It is fascinating."

He couldn't help but smile at that two of his longtime comrades had joined him and that they apparently had been turned into women. He looked forward to seeing the bodies that matched the voices to see if there were any similarities when compared to their male bodies.

"Lieutenant Commander Zanya Troi here as well, Admiral," came an unfamiliar female voice with the tone of a Starfleet officer. "Do you have any idea how we got here?"

"Not at the moment but if we could regroup and compare experiences, we might be able to come up with some answers," he replied, thinking better of his odds with another person to work with. "I'm activating my communicator's homing beacon."

"We'll be there as quick as we can, Admiral," Scotty said with optimism in his voice.

Spock and Lieutenant Commander Troi said much the same before severing communications, so he shut his communicator and kept an eye out for either them or trouble. He couldn't see everything since the light from the streetlights only extended so far but he felt confident that, unless something with a long range weapon took a disliking to him, he'd have little trouble holding this position.

While he waited, he pondered the situation to try and figure out what had happened to them as well as how they could return to where they belonged. The transition between when he'd been aboard the Enterprise and finding himself in the middle of a street on historic Earth had been instantaneous. That meant that drugs were unlikely since even the most potent ones generally gave a person at least a second or two to realize that something was wrong before losing consciousness. His repeated experience with a Vulcan nerve pinch made it a possibility since he knew that, once a Vulcan performed it, you were out like a light. However, to his knowledge, none of the Vulcans that had been on the bridge at that time had been anywhere near him before the transition. Spock also hadn't warned him of any spatial anomalies or energy distortion fields in the minutes leading up to the transition.

The more he thought about it, the more questions that popped up and the fewer answers his mind was able to come up with.

It was a few minutes before he heard the familiar sound of Starfleet regulation boots on a stone surface but, when he turned, he beheld a sight that would make this an experience to remember. Walking towards him was a black haired Vulcan female a little under five and a half feet tall wearing a captain's uniform. Looking at her face, he could see the usual Vulcan serenity but, aside from that, very few features reminded him of his second in command and longtime friend. Still, it looked like wherever she'd been taken from she'd been given the standard away team gear, including a tricorder that'd be useful in learning more about their present situation.

"Any trouble getting here, Spock?" he asked once his second-in-command reached him.

"A few unidentified nonhumans attempted to assault me but I was able to discourage them by firing my phaser along their path of approach," Spock replied with a voice that wasn't his but with all of the inflections and speech patterns that did belong to him. "It proved quite effective."

"Yes, I had the same problem soon after I found himself here," he said, glad to see that they wouldn't have to use lethal force to protect themselves from any hostile life forms. "Have you had any luck learning more about our new surroundings?"

"Based on visible star constellations, the atmospheric contents of this world and the level of technological development, I believe we are in the late nineteen nineties on Earth," she replied as professionally as any officer giving a report. "More precisely we are on the west coast of the North American continent."

"Yet it doesn't look like post Eugenics War America," he said, casting his gaze about. "This soon after Khan left Earth there would've still been American soldiers patrolling for any Augments that went into hiding."

"Indeed. Tricorder readings also do not detect any particulates or residue consistent with the weapons used during the war," Spock said, showing him the display screen of the tricorder so he could see the recorded readings. "Technological innovations brought about by the Eugenics War are also absent."

"Could history have been altered somehow?" he asked, pondering possible explanations. "That would explain the differences."

"A temporal restructuring would account for the deviations I have located but it would not explain our relocation to this point in time," Spock replied after only a few moments consideration. "It would be far more likely that our own pasts would have been rewritten to reflect the changes in the timeline and we would never realize that 'reality' had not always been as we remembered."

"Alternate reality then?" he proposed since that too would explain the differences.

"A plausible explanation but I will require more information before I can confirm it." Spock replied before turning off his tricorder.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, wondering if there were any differences there. "The last thing I remember was being on Enterprise after we'd been told that the Enterprise would be decommissioned."

"My last memories were likewise of that moment," she replied, looking like she was considering something. "I would not be surprised to discover that Captain Scott was also relocated from that moment in time."

"And Lieutenant Commander Troi?" he asked, wondering about the unknown officer.

"I cannot speculate on her temporal origin with the current amount of information," Spock replied with a speculative rising of one eyebrow.

"Have you tried making contact with any ships that could be in orbit?" he asked, wondering if his communicator had just been damaged to the point where only surface based communication was possible.

"I have made the attempt but received no reply," she replied, almost sounding concerned. "However I believe I may be able to use my tricorder to increase my communicator's range as well as alternative frequencies."

"As soon as Scotty and Lieutenant Commander Troi get here, we'll find a defensible location," he said, formulating a course of action. "You can work on modifying your communicator then."

"Understood," she said before joining him in taking a defensible position.

While he knew that displacing humanoids was different from displacing a starship the size of the Enterprise, he still believed he'd feel more comfortable dealing with the situation in familiar surroundings.

Plus he knew that when they got back, internal investigations would lecture him if he violated the Prime Directive by remaining on this Earth's surface too long.

That was something he definitely wanted to avoid if at all possible.

They likely had similar thoughts concerning him.

 _ **The Streets of Sunnydale**_

 _ **Captain Scott's POV**_

"Och! I dunnae know whuts worse," she said as they continued to try and find a place they could hide in until they had a better idea of what to do. "Losing my banger for a set of diddles or shrinking until I'm only a little bigger than a bloody leprechaun."

"It could be worse, Scotty," Admiral Kirk said, glancing at him as they walked. "You could've been turned into a dog."

"Aye, sir," she said, conceding that being turned into an animal would've been worse.

Still she hoped they found a way to get back to normal soon because, as much as an insight as this was when it came to women, she had no desire for it to be permanent.

"I believe I have located an appropriate structure, Admiral," Spock said, sounding decidedly less off put about the gender change than she was. "There are no life forms present inside, nor are there any in the surrounding structures. If we are careful we should be able to enter unseen and, once inside, Mister Scott and I can begin making the proposed modifications."

She'd heard what Mister, or should that be Miss, now, Spock had planned and she was fully willing to add her engineering skills to the man's scientific knowledge. Like most of the others he'd made an attempt with his own communicator to see if there was a ship in orbit but had received no reply to confirm there was one. Only one of them hadn't made the attempt, though, that was because Lieutenant Commander Troi had lost her communicator in a scuffle. Imagine his surprise when he found out that the lass's communicator was the size of the decorative Starfleet insignia on her uniform. Her uniform was also unusual, consisting of a long sleeved shirt that somewhat clung to the body, along with pants and what looked to be a variation of standard Starfleet boots. It was primarily black in color but with the color blue covering the chest, back and sleeves. With her dark brown hair done up in a mostly intact bun, she looked quite beautiful.

The fact that she'd thanked him before explaining that she was a Betazoid telepath didn't stop him or the others from monitoring their thoughts closer from that point on. Admiral Kirk though had reminded the Lieutenant Commander of Starfleet regulations regarding using telepathic powers on another sentient being without permission. The young woman had apologized but said that her aunt had never been one to show restraint with her telepathy and, sadly, that bad habit had rubbed off on her a bit.

He had a feeling that the lass had a knack for understatement.

"I can confirm that the house is empty," Lieutenant Commander Troi said after focusing on the building for a few seconds. "I can't detect any minds inside."

"Then let's get going before we're seen," Kirk said as the four of them quickly made their way across the street from their place of cover behind a wooden fence.

Once they were up the front steps and in front of the door, he watched as Miss Spock adjusted the settings on her phaser before using it on the locking mechanism. With a barely audible click and the turning of the doorknob they were inside the house. Looking about, it reminded her a bit of her sister's home minus the bits of technology that were commonplace all over Earth. It was oddly… comforting. It made her feel safe. They moved into what was probably the living room before Miss Spock knelt down next to a table to begin modifying the communicator.

"If'n you don't mind, Admiral, I think I'll take a wee look about to make sure we won't be disturbed," she said, figuring she'd give the half-Vulcan first crack at the communicator.

"Be careful," Admiral Kirk said with a nod of his head.

"I always am," she said, taking out her phaser and setting it to stun.

With that in mind she decided to check the rear of the house first since, unless they wound up being attacked by monkeys, most of the troublemakers would come at them from ground level. However she was halfway to what looked like the kitchen where the back door was located when a picture hanging on the wall came into view. What she saw made him wonder if they weren't receiving a little bit of help because in the picture was a lass that looked remarkably like her current female form. The main differences between them were that this new body had longer hair and it was red whereas the girl in the picture had shorter hair and it was blonde. After she'd arrived in the town she'd managed to get a look at her new form by looking at her reflection in one of the old vehicles' windows.

"Admiral!" she yelled as loud as she dared without risking being heard by someone outside.

Seconds later Jim was next to him and a few seconds later realized what had his attention.

"Spock? You might want to come see this," Kirk said with a look that implied he knew how important this development.

This led to both the half-Vulcan and Lieutenant Troi arriving together but they managed to pick up on what was so important rather quickly.

"Fascinating," Miss Spock said before taking the picture off the wall. "Our original hypothesis was that we had been displaced from our native reality and for some reason I and Captain Scott had our genders altered. This picture, however, implies the possibility that we have in fact possessed four of the native inhabitants of this reality."

"Possession? This isn't some fairy tale, Spock," Kirk said, sounding a little skeptical of the new theory.

"I will admit it is improbable, Admiral, but empirical evidence supports it nevertheless." Spock said before putting the picture back on the wall.

"Then we'd better hope that there really is a ship up there," she said as he imagined trying to solve their problem with just away team equipment. "I dunnae like our chances with whatever we c'n get our hands on doon here."

"Agreed," Kirk said with a nod. "Go help Spock with the modifications. Lieutenant Troi and I will continue securing the house."

"Aye, Admiral," she said before following the Vulcan-Human hybrid back to the living room.

Sitting down next to the table that had the tricorder and communicator on it, she went through her pockets, finding the assortment of tools she'd kept with her at all times when she'd been in her male body. Spreading them out on the table's surface, she took the communicator and removed the top half of the outer casing in order to access the circuitry inside. With Spock working on the tricorder, she had high hopes that they'd be able to complete the modifications in record time. For her it was a simple matter of altering the transceiver components so that they could tap into more frequencies and then making the needed changes to boost the signal strength. It'd take components from both the tricorder and the communicator to make it work but it'd be awhile before she'd need anything from the former.

Minutes passed as she worked but she glanced up when Kirk and Lieutenant Troi went up the stairs to secure the windows there. It was catching a glimpse of the lass' face that made him wonder if the infamous Kirk luck wasn't about to come into play. It was something that many crew members of the USS Enterprise had noticed after a year or so of Jim Kirk becoming the captain: if it was humanoid, female and attractive, then it was a safe bet that their captain would spend 'quality time' with her. Oh, the man never got involved with a member of his own crew, Starfleet regulations prohibited it, after all, but that meant that any guests or women not specifically assigned to the Enterprise were fair game. Eventually some of the other engineers had gotten it into their heads to start a betting pool about how long it'd take before the first kiss, the first make out session or even when the woman would wind up in the captain's bed.

She hadn't discouraged the practice since she hadn't seen the harm in it but she had mentioned to a few of the more loose lipped ones that they should exercise a little discretion with who they chose to involve in their wagering. After all, if it got back to the captain, he might take offense and in all the years that followed, if Jim had ever caught onto how people were placing bets on his intimate encounters, he'd never mentioned it. As the man had gotten older the romantic encounters tapered off as the number of people in his age group he'd be interested in dwindled, until he felt it safe to say that only Carol Marcus might've had the chance to become Mrs. Kirk.

 _Well, I suppose every man deserves one last roll in the hay before walking his lass down the aisle,_ she thought before focusing on her work.

It just wasn't proper to be too interested in another man's personal affairs.

 _ **Captain Spock's POV**_

"I imagine this'll make for quite the report when we get back home," Miss Scott commented as they finished the necessary preparation work to begin modifying the communicator.

"Indeed. To my knowledge an incident of psionic dimensional displacement and organic possession has never been recorded before," she said as she began to use the tools available to establish connections where there were none before. "When a more opportune time presents itself, I will attempt to mentally compose my report."

Now was not the time, though.

They were in an environment that they were only academically familiar with and the threat of several unknown alien species lay just outside the dwelling they had chosen as their hiding place. While the building appeared to be of solid construction, there was no guarantee that it would prove to be enough to keep the potential hostiles at bay. Without scientifically establishing the capabilities of the nonhumans outside, being over reliant on the structure to defend them would be strategically unsound. Therefore they had two options: the first would be to relocate to a safer location or determine a means by which they could terminate the dimensional displacement of their minds. The first was feasible but dangerous since they were unfamiliar with the town and did not know where a safer structure could be located. The second, however, was less likely since their limited resources did not allow for a thorough examination of the environment or any reference material that they could utilize to better understand the situation.

Fortunately their present course of action promised the most beneficial outcome.

If there was a ship in orbit and they could contact it, they might gain access to tools and information they were familiar with increasing the odds of success.

"If we are able to successfully determine a means of returning to our native dimension, we will have to ensure that any technology that has manifested with us will be destroyed," she said as she tested a connection to ensure viability before moving onto the next one.

"Ya think they'll stay after we go?" Miss Scott asked, sounding as though she only partially believed it'd happen.

"It is a possibility," she replied, continuing her work. "It is also a risk we cannot afford to take. The Prime Directive forbids interfering with the natural evolution of a pre-warp species."

"It's not our reality and the last time I checked, no one back home can punch holes between dimensions," Miss Scott said, sounding like she wished to explore the possibilities more. "If none of us say anythin', they won't be any the wiser."

"Regardless of whether or not Starfleet possesses the ability to learn of our violation of the Prime Directive, we are still Starfleet officers. We swore an oath to uphold its standards and regulations," she said, pointing out their obligations. "To knowingly leave behind technology that violated that oath would betray who we are."

She could see that her point had produced the desired effect on the engineer and, when no further counterparts were voiced, she judged the debate was concluded.

Minutes passed without incident but, just when she was able to finish the last stage of the modifications, her sense of hearing detected sounds of activity coming from the rear entrance of the home. Careful examination of the sounds indicated that someone or something was attempting to unlock the door, perhaps in an effort to gain entry. With a look at Miss Scott she rose from her sitting position, taking her phase out of its holster and preparing to use it just in case the unknown was a threat. She moved to investigate the noises, she sensed Miss Scott falling in behind her, weapon drawn most likely, so she made a few gestures for the engineer to take up a concealed position just outside the kitchen. Once she had direct line of sight on the rear door of the house she could see a humanoid form working on the doorknob, confirming that it was attempting to circumvent the lock. Confirming that her phaser was set to stun, she waited to see if the unknown would succeed in gaining entry or if the primitive lock would be beyond its ability to overcome.

The click she heard a moment later indicated it was the former.

Watching as the door opened, she saw that the humanoid appeared to be a human male in his late twenties, with dark hair dressed in equally dark clothing.

"Stop where you are," she ordered, causing the new arrival to immediately look in her direction.

She could see a look of recognition in his eyes, implying that he knew the host body she was possessing and the surprise that followed indicated that it was not common for the host to behave as she was at the moment.

"Willow?" the man asked, sounding like he wanted to confirm what he was seeing.

"If you are referring to the owner of the body I am inhabiting, then I regret to inform you that she is not available at the moment," she replied, making sure to evaluate every aspect of his reaction.

Her statement had caused him to raise his guard but that was an understandable reaction when dealing with an unknown individual.

"Who are you?" the man asked in a manner that indicated that, if a response did not come quickly enough, suspicion would increase.

"I am Captain Spock of Starfleet," she replied before choosing to ask a question of her own. "Who are you?"

"My name's Angel. I'm a friend of Willow's," 'Angel' replied cautiously but honestly.

"Do you know anything of the phenomena that has brought us here?" she asked on the off chance that the man knew something of the situation that she did not.

"Only that it's complete chaos out there," he replied, sounding worried about the state of things out there. "I've seen people I know are fictional running around but there are also people that don't seem to be affected by whatever's going on."

Interesting.

The fact that whatever was going on only affected a section of the town's population implied that there was some factor that caused the phenomena to specifically target them. While it was too early to be certain, it did provide a clue as to what might have caused the phenomena in the first place.

Clearly this bore further investigation.

"Do you have any theories as to the source of this phenomena?" she asked in order to see if she could learn more.

"Not really. It's Halloween and that's usually the one night of the year when nothing happens," he replied, sounding puzzled concerning the deviation.

"Is it plausible that the local citizenry have been transformed because of the costumes they wore?" she asked, looking for confirmation of a theory that was forming in her mind.

"Maybe. On the Hellmouth just about anything's possible," he replied, thinking on the matter for a few moments. "It'd certainly explain some of the things I saw out there."

"Do you know where they might have acquired these costumes?" she asked in an effort to narrow down the locations to investigate.

"Party Town is one place and I think I heard of another opening up in the last few weeks but I don't know its name," he replied, sounding like he was catching on to her train of thought.

While both would likely need to be investigated, the latter sounded as though it would be a more likely source for the phenomena. If 'Party Town' had been the source then it was probable that something similar would have happened before now. A new arrival, however, was suspicious.

Hearing Admiral Kirk and Lieutenant Commander Troi coming down the stairs, she decided it would be best of they didn't jump to conclusions. From how he'd behaved thus far she did not believe that 'Angel' to be hostile since none of the body language associated with human deception or hostility had manifested during their conversation. Also given the fact that the man appeared to be more familiar with the town than the four of them increased the probability of finding the source of the phenomena as soon as possible.

"The upstairs of the house is secure," Admiral Kirk said as he reached the bottom of the staircase. "How're the modifications to the communicator coming along?"

"They are proceeding within expected parameters," the replied as she put her phaser back into its holster. "However there have been some new developments you should be aware of."

She could tell right when he saw Angel because the footsteps stopped.

"I can see that," Kirk said, sounding minimally amused.

It would be interesting to see if the new information altered the Admiral's plan.


	2. Enlistment and Cancelled Retirements

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore it would be appreciated if no legal action were taken against me. I can promise that even if you took everything it wouldn't cover even a tenth of your legal fees.

 _ **Admiral James T Kirk's POV**_

 _I don't know what it is but I just don't LIKE this man,_ he thought as he finished listening to the man's explanation of the town of Sunnydale and the owners of the bodies he and the others were possessing.

Once he'd been assured that none of his crew saw the newcomer as a threat, he'd asked the man questions that pertained to both their current situation as well as the people they were possessing. He kept the questions unspecific but that didn't keep him from learning a great deal. According to 'Angel' they were in a Californian town called Sunnydale and the people they'd possessed were students at the local high school. It was Halloween night and, based on what the man had seen and heard, it sounded as though some phenomena had caused some of the population to change into whatever or whomever they'd been masquerading as. Spock had already proposed a theory that their costumes played a significant role in the phenomena and that tracking them to their source could lead them to the means by which they could return home.

From there they'd learned that the town was sitting atop something called a 'Hellmouth' and that it leaked 'demonic energy' that attracted nonhumans fitting the description of creatures from mythology and legend. He also talked about 'magic' as though it were real, making just about everyone in the room look at him like a teenager who still believed in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. They also found out that three of the four of them were part of a group that'd chosen to fight against the creatures in order to save lives. According to Angel he'd never seen Lieutenant Troi's host before either at the local high school, implying that she was only a visitor to the town.

"So what do we do, Admiral?" Scotty asked from her chair in the living room.

"How are the modifications to the communicator coming?" he asked, turning to Spock.

"Complete," Spock replied as she put the covering on the communicator back into place. "However it will still take some time to locate the necessary frequency to contact the orbiting spaceship if there is one in orbit."

"Do you know where these costume shops are located?" he asked Angel, turning to the dark clad man.

"Yes."

"Then take us there," he said before returning his gaze to Spock. "You can try to find the right frequency along the way."

"Understood," Spock said before rising to her feet along with the others.

With that the five of them left the house with Angel in the lead, proceeding cautiously since, even if they could not see trouble with their own eyes at the moment, they could hear the chaos well enough. Screams, cries of fear and in some cases sounds that implied things were being broken at varying distances. Without the tricorder they were forced to use their own senses to determine what was the safer path but thankfully Spock's sharp hearing could pick up on things the rest of them could not. If he was not mistaken Angel also appeared to have enhanced senses and that made him curious. Was he truly human or did he merely look human? There were after all a large number of races throughout the Federation that on the surface looked identical to humans in every way but beneath the surface were quite different.

 _Is he here on some sort of scientific mission involving this pre-warp civilization?_ he thought as his eyes passed back and forth over their immediate area.

It wasn't unheard of.

In fact it was a common practice among races that had an interest with exploration to surgically alter themselves to match the surface appearance of the species they were learning about before sending down an away team. Then again there was always the possibility that Angel was this reality's version of an Augment, since that too would explain the enhanced senses. Whether that meant that Angel also possessed their superior ambition had yet to be proven or disproven. Thus far he hadn't tried to boss them around or act condescending towards them but it could still be a ruse to lull them into a false sense of security. After all Khan had acted like an ideal guest after being rescued from the Botany Bay but then turned around and tried to take over the Enterprise. That was why he made sure to keep his phaser pointed in a direction that, while not obvious, would increase the odds of hitting the potential Augment before the man could close enough to be a physical threat.

As minutes ticked by without any rough encounters with those who'd been changed, he began to think that they'd be able to put an end to their current situation without any trouble.

He should've known better.

"AAAHHHH!" came a woman's scream from a block or so to the right.

Turning his head he saw a sight that had him wondering just how many people from his native reality had been brought over to this one. Running down the street as fast as she could was an Orion girl, looking to be in her late teens from what he could see, and right behind her was some sort of large hairy primate creature. This was a bit odd since, according to Starfleet records, female Orions were capable of emitting a pheromone that made males susceptible to suggestion. Either this creature was female or the biochemistry of the male was different enough that the pheromones were useless against it. Given that the species wasn't exactly known for producing warriors, it was logical that the young woman would choose to flee rather than try to reason with a creature that might not be sentient or even understand her language.

Still, given the situation, the right course of action was clear.

Bringing his phaser to bear he fired at the hairy creature and was slightly surprised to see that, while it was staggered by the beam, it didn't drop to the ground like most life forms did when hit. Looking to Spock, he didn't have to say anything for his second in command to understand what was silently being asked, so they both fired their weapons at the same time. The beams struck the large primate and this time, unlike before, it dropped to the ground just like so many others did with just one. After a few seconds of no movement beyond breathing he was satisfied that the creature wouldn't be a problem for at least an hour or two.

"Are you alright?" he asked the Orion girl as she came to a stop a couple of feet from the group.

"Yes. Thank you for your assistance, human," the Orion replied as she took a moment to catch her breath.

"Any idea why that creature was after you?" he asked just in case she'd have more chasing after her.

"No! I don't know what is going on!" she replied, sounding quite afraid of what she'd been through. "I was… I was with Master… on Rigel IV. We were… attending a party… and then I was here. Then… then that thing… started chasing me… I tried to communicate with it but it didn't seem to understand me. Where are we?"

"Earth, in the late twentieth century. A town called Sunnydale to be precise," he replied, figuring there was no harm in apprising the Orion girl of their situation. "We've been brought here by unknown means. However we believe we've found a possible clue. It'd probably be best if you accompanied us. With the amount of chaos running about in this town there's safety in numbers."

It was as good a lie as any other.

The truth, though, was that he was all too aware of the reputation that Orion females had and their ability to influence males of various species. While officially their people portrayed themselves with the males being in the dominant position and the females being slaves, historical records indicated that the opposite was the case. The females allowed the misinterpretation in order to ensure that they would be underestimated by whatever male masters they were 'sold' to, allowing them to sink their metaphorical tentacles into the male's mind. Before too long it became impossible for the male to defy the female. Naturally this had led to certain precautions being taken to ensure the security of the Federation in general and Starfleet in particular. It didn't mean that Orions, male or female, couldn't join Starfleet or enjoy the same opportunities as the other races. It simply meant that either the female or those she would come into contact with would be required to accept restrictions or medication. It could be as simple as a hypospray loaded with a compound to suppress the pheromones or provide protection to any males expected to come into a certain proximity to the females.

Based on this knowledge, he thought it best to keep the Orion close in order to prevent her from unduly influencing the inhabitants of this reality or setting up her own little empire.

"I would be happy to," the female said with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

With that settled they resumed their walk towards the locations of the costume shops that potentially could be the source of the phenomena that brought them here. As he put one foot in front of another, he couldn't help but wonder if they'd run into anyone else from their native reality.

So long as they weren't Klingon or Romulan, he wouldn't mind.

 _ **Montgomery Scott's POV**_

"Are ye sure we're in the right place, Spock?" he asked as he looked at the front of 'Ethan's Costume Shop' with some skepticism.

"We inspected the other store and did not locate any technology advanced enough to be responsible for our dimensional psionic displacement," Spock replied after a quick evaluation of the exterior. "The timing of this establishment's opening is suspicious when taken into account with the fact that according to Angel nothing like this has ever happened before. Regardless, this is our only lead."

He could not argue that point.

As they'd walked Spock had made progress in eliminating frequencies consistent with spacefaring vessels rather than terrestrial craft but he still had several possibilities to examine. When asked how long it'd take to examine them all, the half-Vulcan had replied that he'd need at least another twenty minutes to eliminate them. It was fortuitous since by then either they'd be on their way back home or they'd gain the means to explore other avenues.

"Let's go. Phasers on stun and be ready for anything," Kirk said as he put action to his words.

With that Kirk led the way advancing towards the door phaser at the ready so he took the right flank while Spock took the left flank leaving Lieutenant Commander Troi and Angel to take up the rear. The door was locked but thankfully precise application of the phaser at the right setting was enough to deal with the lock, just as it had on the house they'd previously taken refuge in. Once they were inside they examined what they could see but it wasn't too easy with the lights out, but it did look like your typical business. Boxes and bins were scattered about with numerous racks of costumes arrayed in a way to make them easy to examine not to mention quite a few foam busts with wigs on them. Looking about, he kept his eyes peeled for anything that looked either dangerous or worthy of the Admiral's attention though if it turned out to be too ancient he might not be able to identify it. After all he hadn't known that computers in 1986 didn't have either the hardware or the software for voice commands, so it was likely he might miss something.

It wasn't until they all spotted a light coming from a curtained off room in the back that they thought they might have managed to find what they were looking for. With hand signals that had been taught to Starfleet personnel Kirk ordered him and Spock to take up positions on either side of the entrance to the back room. Creeping forward as quietly as he could, he did as he'd been ordered, listening for any sign that they'd been detected with every step. Once he reached his destination he looked back at Kirk, giving him a nod to show that he was ready for whatever came next.

With only a brief pause the admiral dashed forward with Lieutenant Commander Troi and Angel following him in, ready for trouble. When nothing happened he nodded to Spock and they followed the first group in just in case the others had walked themselves into a stalemate.

Instead they found something that was both positive as well as negative.

Arrayed about the room was hardware that had components both recognizable as well as alien to them but the advanced nature of the technology could not be denied. It all seemed to be channeled through a central chamber possessing viewing windows roughly a foot and a half in diameter, with control pads half that size sticking out beneath each of them. He looked around but found no one present that could be perceived by human eyes and unfortunately, without a tricorder, that was all they had.

"Spock? Scotty? What do you make of this?" Kirk asked even as he walked around the central chamber to take it in from all sides.

"It's difficult to say Admiral," he replied as he brought his extensive engineering knowledge and experience to bear.

While his expertise was generally more focused on Federation systems and technology, this wasn't the first time the Admiral had asked him to tackle unfamiliar technology. Granted, he usually had a tricorder as well as some other engineering tools but he'd make do with what he had.

He was known to be a miracle worker, after all.

"From what I can discern from the technology they do seem to be focused on both probing and piercing the dimensional barriers," Spock said even as he began to use his experience to operate one of the consoles. "However there are several components that I am not familiar with. I can only presume that they are intended to pull our minds across the dimensional threshold as well as modify the host bodies to be more compatible."

"Is there any indication of who's behind all of this?" Kirk asked, no doubt thinking the same things the rest of them were.

"The programming that I can access follows a format consistent with many races in the Federation database but it is not a precise match." Spock replied even as he continued to work on the console. "The hardware likewise looks similar to what I have seen before but not a precise match."

"Is it close enough for you to send us home?" Kirk asked while the Orion girl looked about with a distinct lack of comprehension.

"It will be difficult," Spock replied before turning to him. "Mister Scott? Go to that console and follow my instructions precisely."

With a nod he moved to the console opposite the one that the half-Vulcan was using and waited for her first command.

"Is this really wise, sir?" Lieutenant Commander Troi asked with worry in her voice. "I want to go home as much as the next person but Starfleet history files are filled with examples of what can go wrong tampering with unknown technology."

"I admit there is risk involved, Lieutenant," Kirk replied with understanding in his voice, "but unless another option presents itself, it's all we've got."

"What about the ship in orbit? The one you had Captains Spock and Scott modify the communicator for," Troi said, pointing out another possible option. "If we can get aboard, we'd have our own technology to work with. It'd increase the odds of us getting home."

"The truth of the matter is that there's no guarantee that there's a ship up there to begin with, much less one that'll let us use its systems," Kirk said, reluctantly admitting his doubts. "Just because we're all from Starfleet doesn't mean the ship, if it's up there, is also Starfleet. For all we know it could be Klingon or Romulan."

"Wouldn't they want to get home too?" Troi asked, sounding like she didn't want to give up just yet. "I'm sure we could work out a temporary truce."

"A truce? Maybe the Klingons'd be willing but the Romulans… they'd stab us in the back the second they got what they needed from us," he said, making clear his opinion that the 'relatives' of the Vulcans could not be trusted.

He could tell that Troi still wasn't in favor of tampering with technology they hadn't been given time enough to study but she said nothing more in opposition of trying.

With that matter handled he listened to each instruction Spock provided, though it was tense since the language on the screens and consoles wasn't one he was familiar with. Add to that the fact that everyone had a different way of describing things, so misinterpreting what Spock wanted him to do was dangerously possible. Still, when no warning sounds or lights manifested after three series of instructions he took that as a positive sign.

"I have successfully managed to circumvent four of the five layers of security on the primary functions," Spock said as they began working on the fourth series of instructions. "Once it has been neutralized I should have full access."

"Good. Once you're in, do a quick evaluation of how it operates," Kirk ordered, sounding encouraged by the progress. "I might be willing to risk using it to return home but that doesn't mean we can't take a look before we leap."

It was also the hallmark of a good engineer to be conservative on paper but be willing to push the envelope a little when necessary.

This was one of those times to mix the two and be very, VERY, careful about it.

WWAAAHH! WWAAAHH! WWAAAHH!

"Warning! Unuathorized system incursion detected! Warning!"

Apparently they hadn't been careful enough.

 _ **Spock's POV**_

"What happened?" Kirk asked as the alarm sounds and messages continued to blare all around them.

"There was a secondary security program hidden in the system," he replied as he attempted to shut said program down. "It was triggered just as I was about to pierce the final layer of security."

"So we should be expecting company soon?" Lieutenant Troi asked, bringing her phaser up in order to fire more quickly at any surprise arrivals that appeared.

"I fear it is a great deal worse than that," he replied as he suddenly found his console cut off from the system. "I've been locked out of the system and a timer has begun counting down."

"A self-destruct sequence?" Kirk asked with the tension the possibility inspired.

"Most likely," he replied even as he attempted to overcome the lock out.

"How much time do we have?" he asked, sounding like he was weighing the benefits of trying to stop the countdown versus making a run for it.

"If my understanding of the language and the iconography is correct, we have three and a half minutes before the machines destroy themselves," he replied after his third attempt to terminate the program failed. "Their destruction will most likely be quite violent and dangerous."

Deciding that attempting to work within the confines would take too long he ceased using the console and instead attempted to open the access panels on the side to gain access to the circuitry. Fortunately with the tools Mister Scott possessed they didn't have a great deal of trouble in doing so and, once he could see the internal workings of the central chamber, he did a quick evaluation. It was understandably complex and the hardware was only marginally familiar but it was not so incomprehensible that he could not make an attempt to disarm the self-destruct. Mister Scott opened up another access panel and began to work on her side of things, passing what tools they had between each other. However after the first minute it began to become clear to him that the odds of successfully disarming the self-destruct within the limited time they had were not good. With every unexpected delay, every few seconds used to discern the purpose of a specific component, the odds continued to rise against his group.

As such he stopped his efforts and began to work with great vigor on the modified communicator since it was likely that the explosion of the self-destruct would encompass several blocks.

It would be unlikely that they would be able to reach a safe distance in time.

"Spock?" Kirk asked, somewhat confused.

"I will not be able to disarm the self-destruct in time, Admiral," he replied even as he began to make educated guesses with the frequencies being explored, "nor do I believe we can reach a minimum safe distance before detonation. Our only hope lies in contacting the starship in orbit."

"What if it's not there?" Lieutenant Troi asked, sounding increasingly distressed.

"We will die," he replied, not seeing the logic in softening the proverbial blow.

"Tact, Spock. Tact," Kirk said with mild exasperation.

"It was illogical to attempt to 'sugarcoat' the truth," he said even as he moved on to the next most likely frequency.

Keeping an eye on the countdown, he pushed his mind as far as he could to sift through the possibilities, the variables, in order to ensure that the precious time wasn't wasted. With each attempt he waited for the required acknowledgment ping that would automatically happen when a connection was formed. Time ticked away but his Vulcan calm kept the stress at bay, allowing him to work at optimum efficiency. When the timer dropped below forty seconds, though, he could see that the others were having difficulty retaining their composure. Some were doing better than others thanks to years of experience in high stress situations but there were few species capable of maintaining composure when violent death was imminent.

As the timer reached less than fifteen seconds his hard work paid off: an acknowledgement ping was emitted from the communicator.

"Computer: lock onto all life forms at present location and initiate emergency transport," he said knowing that time was growing shorter quickly. "Authorization Spock one five beta zero three. Energize."

It was as the timer reached four seconds that a familiar feeling overcame him as motes of light descended before her eyes, all clear signs that transport was in progress, so he felt a small bit of satisfaction that his efforts had succeeded in saving his friends.

Sadly it was overshadowed by the fact that if any life form was within the blast radius of the self-destruct would be seriously harmed, if not killed due to his failure.

 _May their suffering be brief and their salvation assured,_ he thought as the room he'd been standing in became completely obscured by the matter stream.

 _ **Outside 'Ethan's Costume Shop'**_

To those outside the shop all that they heard or saw was a rising high pitched noise and an ever-brightening light that was strong enough to blind anyone who dared to enter the building.

Those that were familiar with advanced technology would immediately presume that an explosion was inevitable and they would be right. In the space between seconds the overload of energy detonated, blowing apart the structure like it was made of tissue paper rather than concrete, steel and wood. However this is where the similarities to the overload of future technology would come to an end because, instead of expanding outward several blocks, it STOPPED. The deadly energy and shockwave that would have killed or injured hundreds remained confined to the edges of the store's dimensions, extending only up into the sky before disappearing. When the energy died off all that was left of the shop was a hole in the ground a dozen feet deep. In the days that followed the official excuse that would be given was that a gas leak beneath the shop caused an explosion that destroyed it. Oddly enough the same excuse would be given to explain away the night of 'wizards' and 'superheroes', with the explanation that it caused mass hallucinations.

Only two beings knew the entire truth and it was safe to say that they wouldn't be spreading it around.

"Was it really necessary to create those machines?" the woman standing on the rooftop across from the former spot of 'Ethan's Costume Shop'. "Why not leave it as it was before? A back room with an enchanted clay bust of Janus."

"They would never have accepted that a bust with glowing eyes was the focal point," the man standing next to her said dismissively, as though the idea was ludicrous. "They believe in science, not mysticism. They might have found a glowing bust interesting but without technology they'd have just moved on."

"And initiating the self-destruct?" the woman asked with a bit of irritation. "Spock didn't activate it with his efforts."

"If I hadn't they'd have realized the technology was just for show and spend the rest of the night looking for the real device," the man replied, sounding like that development would've annoyed him. "You know as well as I do that in order for the changes to be irreversible, all of them need to be concentrated on a single spot. Besides… I doubt the bookworm would survive long on his own."

"And the souled vampire?" the woman asked, pointing out another matter.

"It is 'unfortunate' that the starship's sensors didn't classify him as a life form when its transporters established its lock," the man said with a tone that made it clear he wasn't sorry in the least. "Still, Summers and the world are better off without the 'Brooding Wonder'."

"THEY won't be happy. They had plans for him," the woman said, reminding her conversation companion of others who would be affected by what they'd done.

"Hmph! You talk like they'll actually be able to do anything besides yell at me," the man said, sounding insulted that the woman actually considered THEM a threat to HIM. "They might be powerful by HUMAN standards but they're still leagues away from being as powerful as me."

"I'm not afraid about what they'll do to you," the woman said sternly as she turned to fully look at the man. "I'm more concerned about what they'll do trying to fix things to ensure the furtherance of their agenda. You know how obsessive they are about their 'plans' and 'the greater good'."

"Considering the spotlight we've just attracted to this neck of the reality, they won't risk it," the man said, not worried by the woman's words. "It's a lot like a division of a company conducting research they weren't authorized for. They don't want to attract the attention of their bosses or, in this case, boss, by causing too much of a commotion. It'd be risky enough for them try something without the spotlight. With it… they'll be on their best behavior."

"I hope you're right," the woman said before looking up at the sky. "When are you going to explain everything to them, Q?"

"From their perspective? A few hours," Q replied as the sounds of police sirens reached their ears. "For us, my dear Chaya, it'll be mere seconds."

"Then let's get going," Chaya said with some impatience in her tone. "The longer we take, the more likely either your people or mine will intervene."

Q didn't say anything but rather raised his right hand and snapped his fingers, leaving an empty rooftop behind.

 _ **Xander's POV**_

To say he was considering passing out would've SO been an understatement.

Pushing himself up off the transporter pad, he winced as his body protested the movement, with every muscle and joint acting like he'd been pumping weights like crazy. He thought back to try and remember the last time he'd felt like this, but when nothing came up he realized that he tended to avoid strenuous workouts. He played sports, had plenty of opportunities to get some running done, and he didn't pig out to the point of putting on a weight.

When he finally managed to sit up, the sight that greeted him made him wonder if he hadn't already passed out because what he was seeing was more at him in a dream than reality. In shock he turned his head to the right and then to the left, he saw a room off the middle, one that looked familiar. Ahead looked to be some kind of station or console that definitely looked familiar. To the left was a door that looked familiar both on color combo and the label that was on it.

The thing that really did it for him and almost made him choose unconsciousness over consciousness was when he looked up and saw a circle of… well, circles with one centered directly above him.

Put them all together and it presented him with one image: that of the transporter room of the USS Enterprise NCC 1701-D.

But that was impossible.

The Enterprise was a fictional starship.

He couldn't be on it.

"This can't be real…" he gasped as he slowly moved to move from sitting to crouching.

"It is illogical to deny the truth when the evidence is directly in front of you," came a voice to his left that he recognized as Willow.

But something was different.

It was colder. Contained almost no emotion.

It didn't take him long to find her below one of the other circles on the transporter pad, still clad in her Spock costume, but seeing her only reinforced the oddness.

Her face was almost completely lacking in emotion. There were a few cracks that looked to be anxiety and shock but no one but him would probably be able to see them.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that something Hellmouthy had happened and it hadn't worn off yet. Given what he knew he figured that Willow must've been made to think that she was actually Spock with all his Vulcan logic and emotional control. If they'd been back on Earth he'd have just thought that it'd wear off eventually but, given where they were now, he had a feeling it was a little more… complicated. If the changes had been the result of a spell, everything should've gone back to normal once they regained control of their bodies. Given that they were in the transporter room of a fictional ship, he was sort of glad that everything hadn't gone back to normal since it'd mean all of them would be sucking vacuum and freezing solid.

He'd have to wait to see just how widespread the changes were and how hard it'd be to undo them.

"How do you… feel?" he asked, knowing that it might be a 'duh' moment considering how she looked.

"Focused. Calm," she replied as her anxiety seemed to be fading. "Unsettled."

"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," he said as he looked away from her to see who else would have to deal with new circumstances.

He spotted Buffy quickly enough and she looked to be recovering a bit quicker than the rest of them, but hadn't yet looked up from the transporter pad. She seemed more interested in her thoughts at the moment, which, given who she'd been made to believe she was for a few hours, wasn't surprising. It wasn't that he thought that the Slayer was stupid but with knowledge four centuries ahead of anything she was familiar with scientifically speaking it'd be enough to boggle any mind. He could feel a few stray thoughts bouncing around his head but he could only presume that there was more being held back by some kind of mental defense mechanism. Later, if he slept, they'd probably gain more ground in his head but he'd keep them back for as long as he could.

He had a feeling he'd need a clear mind for the foreseeable future.

The next person he spotted he was surprised to see since she was the last person he expected to dress up in anything sci-fi, much less something that involved so little fabric.

It was Cordelia and she'd dressed up as an Orion slave girl.

He took a moment to take in her fine form dressed more like she should be on a beach but he then forced his eyes to move on since he doubted very much Buffy or Willow would appreciate his staring.

He didn't recognize the young woman in the 'Next Generation' uniform but for some reason the last name 'Troi' caused a feeling of dread to trickle throughout his head. There were only two Troi women he knew about from the Star Trek universe, one of which was pleasant enough, but the other had a habit of amusing herself by ruffling the feathers of others. He seriously hoped that the uniform meant that the girl had become a variation of Deanna Troi because, if the unknown turned out to have turned into some variation of the woman's mother, he'd probably become a target.

When he looked to an empty spot on the transporter pad, he had a strong feeling that they were missing someone, like there should've been another person there with the rest of them. Too bad the shock was making it hard to think at the moment so he shoved the idea to the side to handle later, once they had a better grip on the situation.

Of course that HAD to be the moment when the doors to the transporter room opened up and the last person he expected to find on board ran in, looking quite frustrated.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" Giles asked, wearing a uniform consistent with the movies starring the crew of the no letter Enterprise.

Looking at the division strip of cloth on the right shoulder, it was light green, indicating it was of the medical branch of science division, with the captain rank insignia on it. Considering the people the other Scoobies had dressed up as and the ship they were on, he had a feeling that another member of the original Enterprise crew had found a home in Giles.

"Bones?" he asked, carefully watching the man's reaction.

The jerking of the head and the focusing of the eyes on him was all he needed to confirm that somehow Giles had been made to believe he was one Captain/Doctor Leonard McCoy. He had to marvel at the combination of memories and minds that the Watcher was no doubt dealing with and made his imagination produce images of how fun it'd be to needle the Brit in the future.

"After a fashion," Giles replied, looking like he was calming down a bit now that he was back with familiar company. "I don't suppose you know what's going on?"

"At first I thought that someone'd just cast a spell to make us think we were Star Trek characters but, considering the fact that we're on the Enterprise-D, I'd say it's a bit more than that," he replied, finally managing to stand up on his own two feet. "What happened to you? I didn't think you were into Stark Trek."

"While I will admit that most American programs do not often interest me, Star Trek was one of the few programs that did." Giles straightened his uniform. "Miss Calendar had invited me to a costume party one of the faculty members had organized. She had asked me for costume ideas and I mentioned my fondness for the original Star Trek. It was she who in the end chose to have me dress up as Doctor McCoy. I was on my way to meet her when… all this happened."

"Do you remember any of it?" he asked, hoping that a man with years of Watcher experience would have a tougher mind.

"Only vaguely. Bits and pieces. And you?" Giles asked as the two of them turned to watch the others work to get to their feet.

"Same. Any idea what we should do next?" he asked, not entirely certain what they should be doing at the moment.

They were six people one of which he knew nothing about aboard a twenty-fourth century starship, with little if any idea about how to operate anything. The television show never really gave the audience a step-by-step list of how to do one thing or another. It was more like pressing certain colored buttons in a specific order and waiting for the right sound effect to let you know whether or not you'd done it right or wrong.

"For the moment I believe it would be best to help the others to sick bay," Giles replied, looking at each person on the transporter pad in turn. "Given the potency of the magic involved in our predicament, it would be wise to ensure that no problems are waiting in the wings."

"Sounds like a plan to me," he said as he moved to offer Buffy some help in standing up. "Let's get going."

 _ **The Native Personality of the Body Formerly Occupied by Lieutenant Troi's POV**_

 _Dad is NEVER going to believe this!_ she thought as she sat on a STAR TREK BIOBED.

Then again she was having trouble believing it herself but the fact that she'd pinched herself five times so far with no change to what was going on around her was a big sign that this was real. She really was on board the Enterprise-D. She really hadn't been in control of her body for an undetermined period of time. And there was no way for her to overcome the fact that somehow she'd gained an empathic, maybe telepathic, ability. The only positive point in all that was the fact that for reasons unknown to her the power was not overwhelming her or driving her nuts with the thoughts and feelings of the others present in the room. Her mind could 'hear' background chatter, enough to know that they were there, but not with enough clarity for her to understand what they were 'saying' or for it to be unbearable.

Though she wouldn't be surprised if it kept the headache she currently had around for a few hours longer than she'd like.

Thinking back to how it'd all begun, she probably should've known something would happen when she chose to visit her cousin Gwen for Halloween weekend. Her family and her cousin's family didn't always see eye to eye but she still did her best to smooth things out where she could. In fact, it had been a factor in her choice to come out and see Gwen since, with Christmas coming in less than two months, she'd wanted to make the last memory they had of the Bartlet family a positive one. By making it a positive one rather than their previous memory, which had been a bittersweet one that, while not ending with fists flying or hair pulling, definitely had left a chill in the air… IN SUMMER. Strangely enough she and Gwen had always gotten along and mutually felt exasperation at how their parents couldn't just put the past behind them and get along. There was just one thing they didn't agree on and it was why her cousin had gone to Party Town for her costume while she'd decided to give the new place 'Ethan's Costume Shop' a try.

Gwen detested anything deemed the province of geeks.

She loved a lot of the things deemed the province of geeks.

 _I wonder if it'd have been better or worse if I'd gone with her to Party Town?_ she thought as the man who'd earlier introduced himself as Rupert Giles finished waving a medical tricorder's scanner over her.

"Do you even know how to use that?" she asked even as the scanner was placed back into the top of the tricorder.

"Disturbingly I do," Giles replied, sounding like he'd been somewhat technophobic before tonight. "Fortunately it looks like there is nothing wrong with you. All scan results show you to be in perfect health aside from a mild headache that should fade over the next few hours. Though it might help if you spent some time alone."

"Why?" she asked though she had half a theory as to why.

"Given your new status as a member of the Betazoid people, it is likely that your untried telepathic abilities are currently under a bit of strain," he replied, quickly putting the medical tricorder on the nearby biobed. "Possibly due to your proximity to the rest of us. Some time by yourself should offer you some respite."

That made sense… right up until her mind digested the fact that he said she was now a Betazoid.

"I'm a Betazoid?" she asked as she got off the biobed. "How did that happen?"

"Well… that is something of a long story," Giles replied, looking uncomfortable at her question.

"I'd be interested in hearing it," she said, not willing to have the very important information kept from her any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Very well but first I believe there is a more important matter to contend with," Giles said as the others that'd beamed up with them approached.

"You are referring to the fact that the Enterprise is in orbit of the Earth along with numerous government satellites all of whom are now likely aware of the starship's presence by now?" the female Spock known as Willow asked with a stoic expression.

"Yes," he replied with moderate seriousness.

"Then we have to get to the bridge," the mid-twenties man named Xander said before walking for the doors of sickbay. "Move the ship to the dark side of the moon and keep it there."

As one the occupants of sickbay entered the hallway with Xander in the lead, no doubt heading for the nearest turbolift but she was of mixed opinions about this. On the one hand she agreed that leaving Earth orbit as quickly as possible was the right thing to do unless they wanted to receive guests via space shuttle or nuclear warheads via rocket. On the other hand, she wanted very much right now to get beamed to her home in New Hampshire so she could tell her parents about all of it and ask them what she should do. This whole situation was way past anything she'd ever dealt with before, way past anything ANY teenager has ever dealt with before, so it was perfectly reasonable to want to seek help from those more experienced than oneself. These two sides were warring against each other and keeping her from making a decision. So instead she simply followed the will of the majority and entered the turbolift with the rest of them.

"Bridge," Xander said before the hum of the conveyance and the alternation of light and no light in the windows.

"I know this is probably a stupid question but do any of us actually know how to drive a starship?" Buffy asked with a light to moderate Scottish accent in her voice.

"If it's anything like Giles and the tricorder, it should come quickly to any of us," Xander said as the lights out of the window shifted from vertical to horizontal, indicating a change in direction.

"And if it doesn't?" Buffy asked, determined to explore that possibility.

"Last I checked the ship responded to voice commands," Xander said as the turbolift slowed to a stop before the doors opened. "We tell it to set a course for the dark side of the moon at full impulse and I'd bet money it could do it."

Taking in the entire bridge, she could see the similarities to the one from the TV show but it looked more… real… to her. It looked more functional. Less like a TV show set and more like an actual starship made in the twenty-fourth century. This increased her unease because, while she'd been lounging comfortably, she'd been under the impression that the ship was no more harmful than it appeared in the television show. Now she was afraid that pressing the wrong button at the wrong station could wind up vaporizing California.

"So… who wants to do the honors?" Xander asked as they all gathered around the helm station set a few feet from the view screen.

No one said ANYTHING, much less slid into the chair as a prelude to setting a course for the dark side of the moon. Giles looked like he thought that sitting behind the helm was akin to willfully strapping yourself into a medieval torture device. Willow was hard to figure out because she was doing a damn good job of pulling off the whole 'Vulcan Calm' thing. Xander looked like he might be willing to take a crack at it but also thought that might turn out to be a bad idea thirty seconds to a minute after he started. Buffy was looking at the helm like someone might look at a Formula One race car: feeling that it'd be fun to try but also terrifying because of all the crashes you'd seen on television.

"I'll do it," she said, sliding into the helm chair.

She might not be thrilled at taking this step but she was less thrilled about the ship potentially getting hit with a missile or repelling a boarding party sent by a nation capable of getting a space shuttle up here first. Seeing all the buttons and displays she brought up in her mind everything she could recall about how someone set a course on a starship. On the plus side the layout and format of the console was both efficient as well as intuitive, so it was possible that she could do what she needed so long as she didn't rush things. First she kept in mind that a course was plotted on two three hundred and sixty degree planes since, unlike a sea cruising ship, the Enterprise could literally fly in any direction it wanted. So the heading would be divided by direction vertically as well as horizontally, divided by the word 'mark' or at least that was how she was going to handle things.

"Okay… the moon's coming up on our right but is a bit up, so… course heading zero six five mark… um, three two," she said as the tapped the buttons in the correct order. "And we'll set the speed at one third impulse since hopefully that'll give me time to fix any mistakes I made before we plow into the moon. Engage."

With that the Earth began to slide to the left before vanishing, leaving only the starscape on the view screen before the moon slid in and, once the right side of the moon took the center of the screen, everything stopped sliding but the moon started getting closer. Part of her mind was telling her that it'd take hours to reach the moon even at top speed but another side said it'd take between thirty to forty seconds. When it turned out that the latter was the case, it hit her again just what she was cruising around space in and her mind rebelled against the idea as impossible. Nevertheless, once the Enterprise got close enough she began to put it on the dark side of the moon and chart a course that would keep it there for as long as possible before a course correction would be needed. There were indeed a few times in which she felt a spike of anxiety as she tried to do what she had to do but, when the helm accepted the information she input into it and everything seemed to go right, she relaxed.

"Done. We're positioned on the dark side of the moon on a course that'll keep it there for a while," she said as she got out from behind the helm controls. "Hopefully long enough for us to figure out what we're going to do with a twenty-fourth century Starfleet flagship."

"I think we'll all be able think better after a few hours' sleep," Xander said, looking as relieved as she did that they hadn't killed themselves by accident yet. "Find a room, get inside and get some shut eye. Dismissed."

"I don't recall electing you captain, Xander," Buffy said, reminding the twenty-something young man that no official chain of command had been settled.

"Fine. Do whatever you want but don't bother me for the next six hours unless we're facing imminent destruction, death or Principle Snyder decked out in a dominatrix outfit," Xander said as he strode towards the turbolift. "See you later."

For a moment she tried to figure out what was so bad about the last one, aside from the repulsive image her mind came up with, but Buffy put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't even try, lass," Buffy said, only aware that she'd slipped into a Scottish accent after the fact. "The answer'll scar you for life or make you want to throw up. Trust me on this."

She decided since these people she found herself with knew who this Principal Snyder was, they'd be in the best position to know just how mentally disturbing seeing the man in dominatrix gear would be and put an end to her imagination's attempts to picture it.

Sleep sounded just too good to pass up at the moment.

 _ **Xander's Dream Plain**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"I've got a very bad feeling about this," he said as he looked out upon an endless white expanse where nothing seemed to exist yet was solid enough for him to stand on.

"Oh really? And why is that?" came a voice he knew from many a night watching a TV show that was quite relevant to his current predicament.

Turning towards the voice, he soon saw the source and instantly he found himself both irritated as well as worried. He felt the first because, if the episodes he'd seen were any indicator, the man before him was likely behind their current predicament and would probably create new ones well into the future. He felt the second because, if the man was truly as powerful as he was shown to be in the television show, pissing him off PROBABLY wasn't a good idea. Still, as long as he had the man there, he might as well do a little fishing so he'd have something to share with the others.

Lord knew they were all looking for answers and explanations.

"It's just a feeling that follows you around, Q, and sometimes gets to where you're going before you," he replied, trying his best to keep his voice casual. "It infects the people around you and generally doesn't leave until a good while later."

"I'll take that as a compliment!" Q said with a cocky smile on her face. "Greatness means people feel it before you arrive and only forget it DAYS after you leave."

He was SO tempted to make a wiseass comment about that but he figured it'd be more productive to get answers rather than annoy the source of said information.

"So that really was you standing there just before I got tossed into the backseat of my body?" he asked rhetorically. "Were you behind the craziness tonight? 'Cause according to Giles, Halloween is supposed to be dead when it comes to demons, vamps and mojo tossers."

"Oh, I wasn't the one behind the original idea. That belonged to an old chum of your Watcher friend Rupert Giles named Ethan Rayne," Q replied with his smile downgrading to a grin. "I just added a little… flair to it all."

"A little flair? You don't do anything 'little', Q," he said, not believing for an instant that the man had just nudged things here or there. "For you it's go big or go home. I also bet you're the one that brought the Enterprise here not the spell. Right?"

"Gee! You really are 'The One Who Sees'!" Q said mockingly as he began to circle his target. "I did indeed bring the Enterprise here because you and your friends are going to need it."

"Need it for what?" he asked, not liking what his imagination was coming up with for possibilities.

"Would you be interested to know that, just like in Picard's reality, humans are not alone in the galaxy?" Q asked rhetorically back as he continued to circle. "There are more than twenty-four different races in the Milky Way alone and even more elsewhere. There are even more unintended colonies of humans spread out across your galaxy."

"Mildly interested. I always figured there had to be alien races out there even if I didn't know the exact number," he said before snagging on the really interesting bit. "There are humans on other planets? How'd that happen?"

"I'm glad you asked! A little over ten thousand years ago an alien symbiotic race called the Goa'uld happened upon Earth and found the human race. Up until then they'd been using a race called the Unas as hosts but the most powerful among them thought you humans looked more pleasing to the eye, so he traded up," Q explained, never stopping his circling. "Where he went others of his kind followed and imitated. The problem was that the Goa'uld aren't like the Trill of Picard's reality. Their hosts are almost always unwilling, are stripped of any control of their open bodies and the symbiotes have a rather impressive case of megalomania going for them that seems to be genetic.

"As a result they decided to enslave humanity and pose as deities, using their superior technology to imitate sorcery. For a little over seven thousand years they plundered the Earth, transplanting some humans to other habitable worlds as slaves, soldiers and future hosts. Of course you humans didn't put up with that forever and eventually there was a rebellion that finally kicked them off the planet," Q said as he continued his explanation. "Ra didn't retaliate or attempt to reestablish a foothold since there'd been more than enough transplanted humans on other worlds to serve him and his kind. Thus you humans were left to the demons, the vampires, the 'mojo tossers' and the so called 'Real Deities' that occasionally lend a percentage of your fellow planetary residents their power."

"While it's nice to know there was a time when humans managed to kick alien ass, what does that have to do with the here and now?" he asked, filing away what he'd learned to talk to Giles about it later. "You wouldn't be here and do all this just to give me a history lesson."

"Quite right," Q said with his grin widening to just shy of what you'd call a smile. "I was walking about the timeline and you know what I found? Members of your country's military are working on turning on a rather quaint piece of technology capable of generating artificial wormholes that'll let them travel the galaxy, exploring strange new worlds. Predictably you won't take a hundred steps before getting into trouble since the first planet your people set foot on will be one of the supreme Goa'uld's slave worlds, mere days before he arrives to inspect his holdings."

"They fight?" he asked, wondering why first contact couldn't be as peaceful as it was made out to be in Star Trek.

"They fight, they kill and, in a heroic moment, the Colonel in charge fired a twenty-three hundred kiloton nuclear warhead up his ass while the Goa'uld was leaving orbit in his ship. An explosion ensues and there's suddenly one less 'snakehead' in the galaxy," Q replied, making it sound like it was all very boring to watch.

"I sense a 'but' coming," he said, knowing that blowing up the grand poohbah of an alien race didn't happen without repercussions.

"Yes, well, the Goa'uld aren't big on trust or working together. Ra was the one being with the power and authority to keep the rest of them more or less in line," Q said, as though he could've done a better job. "With him gone there will be a power vacuum among the Goa'uld and each of the ones who hold the rank of System Lord will begin fighting with one another to increase the size of their territories, with a few particularly ambitious ones aiming to replace Ra as the Supreme System Lord. One, however, will decide that retribution will need to be visited upon Earth for killing their former ruler and to ensure that their image as invulnerable deities remains intact."

"In other words the military kicked over a bee hive and we're going to be stung." he said as he imagined spaceships aplenty bombarding the planet from orbit.

"Indeed they did and for the next ten years they, in the newly christened Stargate Command, will divide their time between exploring the galaxy and fighting the Goa'uld as well as a few other threats. Many times they'll win by the skin of their teeth as you humans put it," Q said, getting serious for the first time since the discussion began. "I've seen it all from start to finish and I am not impressed."

"I thought you weren't impressed with humans in general," he said, remembering all the scenes from 'The Next Generation' where the omnipotent being made a crack about the human race.

"I'm not but of all the races in this reality, humans are the least unimpressive ones, so I've got to work with what I've got," Q said, sounding like a craftsman forced to work with substandard materials and tools. "In the case of Stargate Command and their flagship team SG-1, though, seeing them stumble through the galaxy creating chaos wherever they go and nearly sending reality into oblivion makes me want to weep for your species. As a result I decided to pull a few strings and put people with better qualifications on the job."

Q thought that a group of high school students and one British librarian could handle hostile aliens better than a trained military organization? Reality was SCREWED.

"Soooo… what?" he asked, hoping for a concrete mission mandate. "You want us to work oversight for these SGC people? Make sure they don't make as big a mess or use any weapons of galactic destruction?"

"I was actually planning on leaving that to you and your friends to decide what to do next," Q replied, sounding like he was just interested in seeing the chaos ensue and having a good laugh. "You and your friends have done and, in another timeline, did do a good job thinking on your feet and overcoming impressive odds. It's time to move up to the big leagues."

"But… but… we don't have the experience or the skills to run a starship!" he declared as he realized that they were being left to their own devices by the cosmic being.

"I know that! That's why I brought him here," Q snapped slightly before pointing over his shoulder.

Turning around to see who was being pointed at he froze in place when his eyes locked with the eyes of the man standing twenty feet away from him. He was getting hit left and right by surprises but this one had him reconsidering whether or not it really was just a dream and he was laying unconscious somewhere on the streets of Sunnydale. Judging from the expression on the face of the man he was staring at, he was feeling similarly thrown by what was going on but managed to recover quickly enough.

Not surprising, really.

After all, Admiral James Tiberius Kirk had seen and experienced plenty of strange things in his long career with Starfleet.

"Um…hi," he said, not sure how best to address someone so legendary in his mind.

Judging from the expression on Kirk's face, he wasn't much better off.

 _ **Dream Plain**_

 _ **James T Kirk's POV**_

"Where… am I?" he asked as he tried to reconcile his last memories with where he was now.

He remembered being on Veridian Three.

He remembered fighting alongside Captain Picard of the Enterprise D to stop a madman named Soren from using a torpedo to detonate the system's sun. It was all done in order to attract a phenomena known as the Nexus to the planet so Soran could enter it and stay there for all eternity. The Nexus was an extradimensional realm where the thoughts and desires of the people inside shaped the reality around them. Time had no meaning and so you could bring forth your dreams and make them as real as you wanted for as long as you wanted. You could also revisit any moment in your past and change the outcome to whatever you wanted. Screw up a date? Go through it however many times you want until you get it right. Fail to save someone you care about from a terrible fate? Get as many chances as you want to save them.

It was a very seductive and addictive.

He almost fell for it himself but the fact that there was no chance of failure made it all hollow.

So together with Captain Picard they'd used the power of the Nexus to place themselves at just the right moment to stop Soren and they'd succeeded, albeit at what he'd thought had been the cost of his own life.

Now he was here.

"You're nowhere, really, Jimmy," the forty-something man wearing what looked to be a uniform like Picard's replied with both hands behind his back. "To put in terms you can understand it's a small pocket dimension outside of your reality."

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked since it was the most logical second question.

"I won't bore you with the details but basically this young man is about to set off on his own five year mission and he needs someone to show him the ropes," the older of the two replied, looking as though he could see the wheels turning inside a person's head in a more literal sense than metaphorical. "I chose you."

"Then… I'm not dead?" he asked since the dead couldn't do anything but lay in their coffins.

"Oh, you're dead, but that's not a problem for someone like me," the older man replied as though it should be obvious that he was still dead. "If you accept this offer you'll be brought back to life and I'll even put you back in your physical prime. What do you say? Interested?"

A chance to live again, to be young again, sounded almost too good to be true.

"And once I show this young man the ropes? What happens to me then?" he asked, wanting to know all the details before agreeing to anything.

"You'll go back to being dead, of course," the older man replied as though he'd just been asked a stupid question.

"No," the young man standing next to the first speaker said with a firm resolve.

"No? What do you mean no?" the older man asked, sounding a little irritated at being opposed.

"Kirk's saved his reality more times than I can count and sacrificed just as much to do it," the young man replied, not backing down. "He deserves more. He helps get me up to speed you send him back to his native reality in the body you gave him to live out his life however he wants."

He watched the two strangers look each other in the eye and was reminded of all the times he'd stared down beings of impressive power. Against his will he couldn't help but imagine that this was how it'd look if he'd had a son who'd joined Starfleet and rose to the rank of captain. Following in his footsteps.

With a snap of movement the older man's head turned towards him and soon after an amused grin blossomed on his visage.

"I like the way you think, Kirk," the older man said with mirth in his voice. "Fine. You do your job in showing this young man how to be a starship captain and you'll get your second chance at life."

"Then I accept," he said, never one to shirk his responsibility to the next generation or turn his back on someone who needed his help.

"I had a feeling you would," the older man said grin still firmly in place. "Welcome aboard!"

The man snapped his fingers and a flash of light blinded him for a moment but when it cleared he found himself in some rather luxurious crew quarters. The arrangement, the materials and the design of the various consoles bore a loose resemblance to what he'd seen on the Enterprise-B but just a resemblance. Walking about he took it all in and wondered what the future would hold for him but when he walked past a mirror his eyes caught on something that demanded his full attention. When he'd been told that he'd be put back into a body matching his own in its physical prime he'd presumed it would match the one he had when he'd been made Captain of the first Enterprise. What he saw staring back at him though was the face and the body he'd had shortly after graduating Starfleet Academy and being assigned to the USS Farragut. He'd been twenty-five years of age then and, as he moved his limbs, he could FEEL how young he now was and relished in the absence of the aches he'd been forced to deal with as old age had set in.

He couldn't help but be excited since it meant that once he was finished here he could conceivably join Picard's generation of Starfleet and once again command a Federation starship. He'd meant what he'd said to Picard regarding doing everything possible in order to remain captain of a starship. As an aging Admiral he'd been forced to give up any hope of regaining the good old days but now… now it was a real possibility worth considering.

He was about to go in search of the young man he'd been charged with teaching so that they could get to know one another and begin setting the groundwork for the future when he saw the digital readout of the time on a nearby console. It was the middle of the night and there was a good chance that the man was asleep or was in need of sleep, so instead he walked behind the desk in the room and sat down in the chair. He'd wait a few hours before making contact with the young captain and he knew just how to spend his time until then.

"Computer: display summary of historical data on the Federation from twenty-two ninety-four to latest recorded entry," he said feeling glad when the information began to appear that voice commands were still used with Starfleet computer systems.

From the looks of things he had quite a bit of reading to do even with all the information summarized rather than laid out in their entirety. Still, barring some sort of emergency, he had the time and his curiosity concerning what'd happened after his 'death' was just too strong to ignore.

He wanted to know what'd happened to Starfleet after he'd left and, more importantly, he wanted to know what happened to his crew.

 _ **Dream Plain**_

 _ **Willow's POV**_

"Interesting," she said as she began making a scientific evaluation of her surroundings.

A part of her felt fear at what she was experiencing, as well as anxiety, but at the same time her mind clung to the Vulcan calm, knowing that losing control would only worsen the situation. She remembered quite well how long citizens of Sunnydale tended to last in dangerous situations once they allowed their emotions to run amok. She could discern no features worthy of note in the realm she now found herself in and with this knowledge she began forming a list of numerous possibilities to explain what was going on. They ranged from some sort of holographic environment to a telepathic mental construct formed between two minds.

When she attempted to discern the motive for bringing her there she theorized that it was imprisonment, observation or a venue for communication but she would need more information before she could be certain. If any of the three were valid then it was logical that the being or beings responsible would make contact with her if she waited long enough. If, however, the situation presented elements that threatened her continued survival, she would begin to make all efforts to escape before permanent harm could be done.

She didn't know how much time had passed since she began her wait but, when she sensed a presence, she turned towards it in order to properly identify it.

Her concern spiked when she identified the man standing a dozen feet from her but was also calmed somewhat by the second man standing next to the first.

"Q," she said, getting a nod of confirmation as to the first man's identity. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Less than five hours and already you sound just as dull as the Vulcans," Q said, sounding disappointed in her. "Your friend Xander already knows the particulars but let's just say there's a threat coming to Earth that only a Starfleet vessel and crew can protect it from. In short, you've been drafted."

Her right eyebrow reflexively went up at this news as her mind began to form new theories and possibilities about the developing situation.

Q's words implied that whatever the approaching threat was it could not be countered using sorcery, melee weaponry or unarmed combat. There was no other reason why he would alter the Scoobies biologically or mentally, much less bring into being a copy of the Enterprise-D. The world of Star Trek was based on science and the idea that supernatural was nothing but fairy tales or a primitive manifestation of the human ID.

"And the presence of Spock?" she asked, looking to the Vulcan-Human hybrid who, by her visual estimation, was likely over a hundred and fifty years old.

"You'll need a tutor if you're going to get anything done," Q replied, sounding disappointed that she had not discerned the reason on her own. "Who better than your genetic 'father'?"

This shook her to the point where she had little doubt that a physical manifestation of her unsettled mental state could be seen on her face.

"Explain!" she demanded with more emotion than she had expressed since being changed.

"Well, every Kirk needs a Spock," Q explained, sounding like he was completing a set of books or filling roles in a play. "Besides, there'll be some things that only someone of Vulcan blood is capable of."

So… she was no longer entirely human. Indeed, depending on how literally one chose to take Q's statement, it was entirely possible that genetically she was no longer the daughter of Sheila and Ira Rosenberg. She would likely require the instruments available on the Enterprise-D to analyze her DNA and compare it to Starfleet records of Ambassador Spock's DNA in order to confirm it, though. She was bothered by this but, oddly enough, not as much as she would have anticipated. With the Vulcan calm influencing her mind she found herself able to examine her memories with greater clarity and, with this reexamination, came some… painful conclusions.

Nevertheless, this was not the time to ponder them and so, with a supreme effort of will, she reasserted her Vulcan calm at full strength.

Turning to Spock, she chose to choose another line of inquiry.

"What is your position on this matter?" she asked, not using his name or his genetic label.

"While I do not condone the changes you have undergone without consent, I am gratified to learn that my bloodline will not end with me." Spock replied, looking back at her with the same Vulcan calm.

"Bloodline? While you are of advanced years, you have not reached the point in the Vulcan lifespan where reproduction is unlikely," she said, letting a bit of her puzzlement into her tone.

"Due to an anomalous encounter with Red Matter in the year 2387, I was transported back in time to the year 2258 along with a Romulan mining vessel. As a result of our presence and our actions changes were made to the timeline," Spock explained with cracks of pain manifesting on his face. "One such change was the destruction of the planet Vulcan and the reduction of the Vulcan people from over seven billion to less than one hundred thousand. In the altered timeline, Vulcans have been rendered an endangered species."

It shocked her to learn this given the prominent role the Vulcan people had in the Star Trek universe. Her mind was aflutter with theories as to how this would alter events from 2258 onward but given that they were not in that reality, she supposed it didn't matter. Still, it did explain Spock's comment somewhat. With the Vulcan population decimated, the addition of even one member via magic would be welcome. Yet even if the numbers were few, what could prevent Spock from siring children with a suitable Vulcan female?

"I have not sired children of my own because I have not been allowed the opportunity to do so," Spock said as if predicting her next question. "Due to the devastation caused by the Romulan Nero using Red Matter, certain parties became very interested in me. One such party was an autonomous clandestine organization known as Section Thirty-One said to have existed since before the founding of the Federation. They claim that they seek to protect both the security as well as the interests of Earth and the United Federation of Planets but have proven themselves firm believers in the phrase 'the ends justify the means'. They act as judge, jury and executioner to those they deem threats."

"I find it difficult to believe that such an organization would be permitted to exist within the Federation," she said, her mind rebelling against the idea of such an organization cohabitating with the honorable Federation.

"There were many in Starfleet Command and the Federation Council who were sympathetic with the methods and objectives of Section Thirty-One. While they found the ideals of their organizations admirable, they conceded that they were not entirely realistic or practical," Spock explained, giving no outward sign of his position on the matter. "Given the example of Red Matter's destructive potential in Vulcan's destruction, they desire to ensure that all information concerning it be exclusively their own. Up until I was brought here I was on the run, with only a trusted few knowing how to contact me."

Being pursued by such an immoral and ruthless organization would indeed make finding a suitable female to mate with difficult. Depending on the species diversity within Section Thirty-One, it would be difficult for Spock to get close to anyone given the possibility that they could be an agent meant to ply the secrets of Red Matter from his mind.

"Then perhaps by becoming my tutor you could succeed in evading them entirely," she said, acknowledging the potential benefits to Spock. "An alternate reality would be quite difficult for them to find, never mind follow you to. Depending on how long you will be here, they may forsake pursuit of you after a period of time with no new leads."

"Unlikely. An organization that has existed for over two centuries is unlikely to forget about me during the time that I am away. It is more likely that they will wait until I 'come up for air' before renewing pursuit," Spock said, shaking his head. "However perhaps some good can be gained from this meeting. A way of providing you with the experience you require and depriving Section Thirty-One of the information they seek."

"How?" she asked as her mind failed to deduce what he meant.

"An imaginative idea!" Q said, sounding rather amused by the idea. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"If both of you are on the same page would you please disclose the information to me?" she asked, a speck of annoyance entering her voice.

"Using a mind meld it would be possible to transfer my katra, my essence, if you will, to your mind," Spock replied, turning to face her. "In doing so you will gain my experiences as well as my knowledge."

"If I recall when you performed this transfer on Doctor McCoy, he developed a form of multiple personality," she said, pointing out a potential risk.

"The difficulties you described were due to the fact that Doctor McCoy was human," Spock explained, not sounding dissuaded from his idea. "As Q has pointed out you are now half-Vulcan. I am confident that you will be able to house my katra with minimal, if any, ill effects."

The man before her would indeed have the knowledge necessary to make that judgment but still she was wary of taking such a step. Taking on the katra of a Vulcan was not something to be done lightly, nor could it be undone very easily. At the same time, though, her memories of Spock's exploits caused her to feel great respect for the man and if she could keep the information on Red Matter out of the hands of an amoral organization like Section Thirty-One, so much the better.

"Very well. You may proceed," she said, putting herself into the proper mindset for what was to come.

Thus with his right hand Spock reached up placing each finger at precise points on her face, his eyes locked with her own.

"My mind… to your mind. My thoughts… to your thoughts," Spock said in an almost chant-like manner.

She could feel something establishing a connection with her mind and it was proving a most novel sensation. With the connection came thoughts, words and compulsions.

"Our thoughts are one…" they said in perfect unison. "…our minds are one."

Thus the mind meld was complete and so she awaited the beginning of the transfer of Spock's katra. It was not long in coming and she found herself almost overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. She almost gave into the reflex to fight what was happening to her, but she managed to suppress it, holding strong to her resolve to see it through to the end. Nevertheless, the strain on her mind was considerable and for a time she thought it would shatter before the transfer process was complete. Then the strain suddenly lost all of its strength, fading to a mere shadow of its former self with both her as well as Spock mentally fatigued.

"It… is done," Spock said as he took some unsteady steps back.

"I shall honor… what you have given me… Spock," she said even as she sought to recover her strength.

"I have only done what is logical," he said, showing his resiliency with every word.

"Indeed," she said conceding that point. "If Q intends to do for the others what he offered to do for you, what message do you wish me to give Mister Scott, Doctor McCoy and… Jim?"

"Tell them… tell them that this situation proves that there are always possibilities. More than any of us thought existed," Spock replied after taking a moment to consider his words. "Tell them to take advantage of these possibilities when possible. Through them we may one day meet again."

"I will," she said, committing his worlds to memory.

"Yes, yes! Very touching!" Q said, clearly possessing the opposite opinion. "Now say your goodbyes so I can get on with my work."

Considering the omnipotent being could travel through time, space and reality, you'd think he had all the time in the world. Apparently, while his power might be infinite, his patience was not.

"Live long and prosper, Spock," she said, performing the Vulcan salute as a final sign of respect.

"Live long and prosper, Willow," he said, saluting her in return. "Live long and prosper… my daughter."

With those words the whiteness that the realm seemed to be composed of began to glow with increasing brightness, making it harder and harder for her to see either Spock or Q. Concluding that she was being returned to the Enterprise-D and the quarters she'd chosen to reside in, she chose to continue to slumber since it would give her time so that her mind could process what she had received.

Hopefully Xander would be able to elaborate on the threat Q deemed important enough to counter using them after she awoke.


	3. Getting Your Affairs In Order

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and some people enjoy reading my stories. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me.

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 _ **The Next Day**_

 _ **Buffy's POV**_

"I'm not sure if this is better or worse than havin' a destiny to fight demons and vampires," she said, entering the observation lounge of the Enterprise D.

She was all too aware that, due to her agitation, her newly acquired Scottish accent was coming through loud and clear but considering everything they now had to deal with, it was rather low on her list of priorities.

"Do nae worry, lass," Scotty said reassuringly, following behind her. "It cannae be worse than dealing with the Klingons back before the Khitomer Conference."

She had to roll her eyes at those words and immediately chastised the now twenty-something man the best way she knew how.

SMACK!

"NEVER say things like tha'!" she exclaimed after slapping him on the upper arm. "The universe is just waitin' for people to say things like tha' just so it can prove'em wrong!"

"You've got some strength in you, lass," Scotty said with a wince as he massaged where she hit him. "And that's a fact!"

"Och! Don't be such a baby!" she said dismissively before she took her seat next to Willow next to the briefing table.

Looking about the table she could see that she hadn't been the only one that obnoxious prick visited in their dreams but, from what she could see, Willow had come up empty in the tutor department. Nevertheless her instincts were nudging her and telling her that something had changed in her former redheaded friend but she couldn't for the life of her say what it was. It'd be something she'd be keeping an eye on until she got a satisfactory answer but she had a feeling she wasn't going to like what she found out.

The only one missing from the room was Xander but he'd told them through the ship's internal communications system that he'd be there in a couple minutes. He'd said something about needing to put together a briefing for all of them on what Q had told him last night, so she'd give him some time before she went looking for him.

Letting her gaze wander, she decided to give a once over to the newest arrivals and determine if they were trustworthy or if she'd have to keep an eye on them.

The first sat next to Giles and, based on her very limited knowledge of Star Trek, she believed he was the ship's doctor. McCab, McClane, something like that, and if she remembered right his mood swung back and forth between happy and grumpy. Looking at him now he seemed calm enough but she'd probably have to see how he did under pressure before she decided whether he needed to be kept on a leash of some kind.

The woman sitting next to the girl wearing the blue and black jogging outfit, who only gave the name Zoey when asked, wore a rather shiny dress that practically screamed 'I like it and I don't care what anyone else thinks'. Seeing as how she wasn't wearing a uniform like the rest of them, she assumed she was a civilian. Still, the woman didn't look like she'd be a problem so, until she saw evidence to the contrary, she'd treat her as just another passenger.

The green woman sitting next to Cordy, though, was instantly rubbing her the wrong way with how skimpy her clothes were and how she seemed to be stuck in permanent seduction mode. She definitely didn't like the way she was looking at the guys in the room and she instantly made a note to keep an eye on the woman. At the first sign of something hinky, she'd introduce the woman to the floors, walls and ceiling of every deck on the ship PERSONALLY.

All in all she found the situation manageable given their small numbers but she was still open to the idea of dumping the whole mess into someone else's lap so she could get back to her normal life, or at least as normal as it ever got. It was hard enough managing a small town full of demons, vampires and people who could toss fireballs. Managing a starship that probably had to save the GALAXY was a decided jump in difficulty that she wasn't sure she wanted any part of.

Hearing the doors to the observation lounge open, she looked towards it she watched as Xander entered with a man that she had no trouble identifying due to the sheer icon level fame that even she'd noticed. James T. Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise from the TV shows and movies, and all around man-ho who couldn't look at an attractive woman without making out with her within a few days, if not hours. She already made an ironclad promise to herself that she would shut down any moves he tried to put on her and cock block him whenever possible without making herself look like a bitch. The man had been the commanding officer of a starship and that meant setting an example for his crew, both as a human being as well as a Starfleet officer. That meant that he shouldn't treat women like they only existed to be romanced by him. It meant that when Miss Right comes along, he should've done the right thing, got down on bended knee and proposed to her.

Until he realized that, she was going to be on his case every chance she got.

"Thanks for coming, we've got a lot to cover and a lot of decisions to make," Xander said before a befuddled look came over him. "I sound like I'm the president addressing his staff. ANYway, did everyone have a good sleep last night?"

"Better than at a hotel," she replied honestly since she always had trouble falling asleep in a hotel room.

"Good. Now I'm betting you're all wondering what big bad is coming down the highway and why Q decided to draft us to handle the problem," Xander said, sitting in the chair at the head of the table. "Hope you're comfortable and have used the bathroom because this is going to take a while, especially since Kirk and I have been reviewing files mister cosmic and omnipotent saw fit to put into the ship's database. So… we all good?"

Nods all around the table confirmed that they were all ready to hear what the hell they'd been dragged into doing.

"Well, it all began a little over ten thousand years ago when the king alien symbiote snake came to Earth shopping for a new host body," Xander said as he began laying out the problem they'd all be facing if they didn't choose to tell Q where he could shove his mission.

What followed had her wondering what kind of cosmic weed Q had been smoking when he thought that they'd be enough to fight off an empire that spanned twenty-two domains and hundreds of thousands of worlds. According to Xander there was this huge empire being run by god and goddess wannabes that had billions of transplanted human slaves from ancient Earth. More than that, thanks to some big metal ring having been dug up and experimented with, the American military would soon kick over the galactic anthill, painting a nasty target on the planet Earth.

And it was going to be up to them to overcome this problem however they saw fit.

"So that's the situation. Q wasn't impressed with how the SGC is going to handle things for the next ten years and thinks that we along with the Enterprise-D can do a better job," Xander said as he switched off the wall display he'd been using for his briefing. "Thoughts?"

"Yeah! Is he completely MENTAL!?" Cordelia exclaimed, clearly furious over what'd been done to her and why it'd been done to her. "We're five high school students, one tweedy librarian, three space navy people and sex slave-slash-mind whammy girl! I wouldn't trust us to fight off an army of Hell's Angels members, never mind a galaxy spanning ARMY!"

"We've done pretty good so far against a superior army," Xander said, sounding like he was a bit more optimistic about their chances.

"Oh please! At best you and your freak brigade have managed is to keep Sunnydale's head above water!" Cordelia said with angry exasperation. "You have not driven all manner of evil from Sunnydale! You have not made all the cemeteries and churches unnecessary! You've slayed a few hundred demons and vampires out of THOUSANDS! Doing this, you're going to be fighting MILLIONS, if not BILLIONS! You don't think you're a LITTLE outnumbered?!"

Everyone was quiet after that and the non-Scoobies were looking like they thought that an immediate psychological evaluation was probably a good thing to schedule soon. Still, she guessed that Cordy had really needed to vent out everything she was feeling and it was better that it happened now than at a time when calmer minds were needed. She'd probably blow off some steam herself in the next few days but for now she knew she needed to keep cool and focused.

"You're right, Cordelia. We don't like to think about just how out of our depth we are, about how outnumbered we are, but when you know the truth about the world you have two choices: Stand by and do nothing or step up and do something. I don't know about you but I choose to do something with what I know. I choose to fight," Xander said calmly but with strength in his voice. "Now I know that a bunch of body snatching alien snakes are out there and a bunch of G.I. Joes are gonna piss them off, putting Earth in the crosshairs before we're ready. Are you really gonna let someone else do that? Are you really going to just say 'no' to Q and let whoever he picks next handle something that could wind up having your home blasted from orbit when it could've been you?"

For her the answer to that question was mixed.

On the one hand, if she met with the next person on the list and they proved to be the right person for the job, she'd have no trouble turning over the reins of the mission to them. On the other she probably would go nuts sooner rather than later, knowing that at any time death could drop from the heavens and she couldn't do a thing to prevent it. In the end she decided that it'd be better for her nerves and her sanity to take on the mission Q had dumped in their laps.

"No… but I'm still pissed about it all!" Cordy said grumpily as she accepted the mission laid out before her.

"You wouldn't be you if you weren't," Xander said with a small grin. "Anyone else?"

"Well, there's one thing I think you're all forgetting about," Zoey said from her chair, sounding a little anxious. "Our families? Don't you think we should let them know what's happened and what we'll be doing?"

It was then that she remembered her mother and how upset she'd be if she just disappeared without a word to go and do some sort of space trekking, or whatever you were supposed to call it. Zoey was right. They had to at least tell the people closest to them what was going to happen.

"She has a point, Xander," she said, turning to the student of Captain Kirk.

"If you plan on signing on then tying up any loose ends on Earth would definitely be something on the 'to do' list," Xander said, nodding as he turned to look at each person present in turn. "So what do you all say? You in?"

"Given that you have committed yourself to this venture, it is only logical that I accompany you, Xander," Willow said, sounding like she had zero personality. "You do have a tendency to find yourself in perilous situations, after all."

"She's got a point," she said, trying to make it look like she was actually interested in what they were going to do. "Count me in. We're a team after all."

"It is the duty of a Watcher to protect the Earth and the human race. If these Goa'uld are truly the threat this Q says they are, then my path is clear," Giles said with his usual British accent. "I am with you."

"You know I'm with you," Cordy said with her arms crossed over her impressive and ill-concealed bust. "It's not like I can just go back home looking like this."

The former queen of Sunnydale High School's social elite definitely didn't like her present situation but was smart enough to know when she was out of options.

"Zoey?" Xander asked turning to the last person to submit their vote.

"My family is going to go nuts but there's no way I'm passing up a chance to live out one of my fantasies!" Zoey replied, sounding quite enthusiastic. "I'm in."

"Then it's settled," Xander said with a satisfied smile. "Still, since we don't want to get shot down, it'd be best not to bring the Enterprise back into Earth orbit. Good thing I've got an idea about how to avoid that."

"I look forward to seeing what it is," she said with a mock dread that caused everyone to chuckle with amusement.

 _ **21 Mountain Road**_

 _ **Concord, New Hampshire**_

 _ **November 1**_ _ **st**_ _ **, 1997**_

 _ **Governor Josiah Edward Bartlet's POV**_

"Have you heard anything from Zoey?" he asked from his chair near the fireplace.

"Not yet but she did says he was going out with Gwen last night, so maybe she partied a little too hard." Abbey said from the next room of the governor's mansion.

"Hopefully not too hard," he said, not entirely comfortable with his youngest daughter having fun with only Abbey's sister and her family to keep her safe.

Since the day he'd first started dating Abbey, he'd had difficulty getting along with her family but it wasn't for lack of trying. He had tried making jokes, tried finding some topic they both had interest in and even remaining completely polite in all that he said and the actions he took. However, despite his best efforts, he always managed to offend his sister and brother-in-law, whether it was only a little or moderately, but thankfully never enough to generate more than a loud argument with Abbey. This continued in the years that followed until the only times they spent any real time with one another were during the more family-centered holidays. Both Abbey and Zoey did their best to act as peacemakers and, to their credit, they did manage to keep tempers from getting too hot during the get togethers. Still, he couldn't bring himself to look forward to seeing them again even though he knew Abbey would insist upon it when the right occasion presented itself.

Still, Sunnydale sounded like a quiet little town and they two of them had raised their youngest daughter well enough that she'd know to avoid getting into trouble.

DING! DONG!

"Can you get that, Jed?" Abbey asked from the other room.

"You're closer," he said, feeling quite comfortable right where he was.

"Jed," she said in a tone that he recognized all too well.

It was a tone that just about every husband across time knew as a warning that their wife wasn't going to repeat themselves or tolerate what they considered impolite behavior. Knowing that if he pushed his luck she'd give him the cold shoulder for at least a day or two, he put down the first edition book he'd been reading and headed for the front door. He didn't know who'd be visiting them tonight since Abbey hadn't mentioned anything and he certainly hadn't arranged anything. Maybe it was Leo wanting to talk a bit more about his running for the Presidency. They'd been discussing that for quite some time now and he had to admit that the idea interested him and it'd always been a desire of his to serve his country. He managed to reach the door quickly enough and opened it to see who was on the other side but what he saw wasn't what he'd expected at all.

Standing on the other side of the door were two women one of whom he recognized instantly and the other he did not.

"Zoey?" he asked in shock, trying to reconcile his memory of the last time he'd seen his youngest with what he was seeing now.

The Zoey in front of him look to be in her mid-twenties rather than seventeen, which she had been before leaving for California. She was also wearing an outfit that looked like a jogging suit but was obviously some sort of costume with a badge of some kind on the right side of her chest. It looked like a silver arch on top of a horizontal golden oval. It reminded him of something he'd seen when he was younger but he couldn't quite put a name or a date to it.

"Yeah, dad, it's me," Zoey replied, her voice further confirming that he was looking at his youngest daughter. "Something's happened that I need to talk to you about. This is Lwaxana Troi. She… she is part of the explanation. Can we take this inside? I'd like to do this someplace more private."

"Sure, sure! Come in!" he said, stepping aside so his daughter and the woman who looked to be in her early to mid-thirties.

Watching as they came in, he tried to figure out what was going on and how it could have happened but so far he wasn't coming up with nothing that made sense. While he was not privy to all of the cutting edge research in the scientific fields that accelerated aging would fall into, he had a hard time believing that it'd progressed this far.

Together they progressed back to the room he'd been in and each took a seat in order to be comfortable while he was told what'd happened to his youngest daughter.

"Now could you please tell me why it seems like your mother and I've missed almost a decade of birthdays?" he asked, hoping that it wasn't anything serious and could be reversed… somehow.

"Well, I guess it all started when I went to get a costume with Gwen for Halloween," Zoey said before easing into a tale that made him wonder if it was possible to brainwash someone into believing nonsense in less than four days.

According to his youngest, since he didn't think anyone else would try to deceive him but get the age of his daughter so very wrong, she had chosen to dress up as an original character from the television show 'Star Trek: The Next Generation'. She went on to explain being on her way to a local club called 'The Bronze' when something happened that she could not explain. It hadn't been unconsciousness in her opinion since she'd been able recall snippets of images, sounds and smells the entire time the 'something' remained in effect. When the 'something' had ended she'd found herself in what she'd recognized as something called the 'transporter room' of the spaceship from the show. She'd been in such shock over what'd happened that she'd blindly followed the people who'd been on the transporter pad to the 'sickbay', where they'd all tried to figure out if anything was wrong with them.

What they'd learned was astonishing and it had nothing to do with the fact that they'd all been aged to their physical prime.

If Zoey's words could be trusted, she was now a Betazoid, an alien race that might look human but was not, and two others she'd regained control with had become a Vulcan/Human hybrid and an Orion. She'd tried numerous times to wake herself up but her senses continued to show the sickbay of the spaceship and then later on the bridge where she piloted it to the dark side of the moon. This'd convinced her that what she'd been experiencing wasn't a dream or a hallucination but rather something very real. She'd slept for a few hours and, after awakening, had gone to what she called the 'observation room' where she'd not only met people straight out of the fictional universe but was also told by some young man named Xander about why the entire thing had happened.

If the briefing could be believed, the US military would soon begin experimenting with alien technology uncovered at a dig in Egypt in the late nineteen twenties. This technology would allow them to travel across the galaxy through something called a 'wormhole' to a distant world. However, according to some godlike being called 'Q' of all things, doing so would lead to an alien power vacuum amongst tyrants and paint a very tempting target on Earth. It would lead to ten years where the project that started this all would attempt with its limited means to both protect Earth from the alien tyrants and take advantage of the opportunity for exploration given to them. This supposedly would lead to several close calls and near misses wherein the military personnel had been able to avert global destruction by luck alone. Q apparently didn't like this and so had drafted his daughter and the others as well as provide them with the spaceship Enterprise in order to ensure the galaxy's survival as well as the survival of the human race.

"So I told the others we should at least tell our families what's happened to us before we get hip deep in travelling the galaxy," Zoey said, obviously excited about what she'd be doing. "So… what do you think, Dad?"

Honestly? A part of him wanted to reject what she was telling him if only because it was much easier to cling to reality as he knew it than believe that it'd all been turned upside down. Aging by some unknown process? Changing species by the same unknown process? Approached by some powerful being to defend Earth against tyrants capable of wiping out all life on the planet? He found it difficult, if not near impossible, to accept it all even seeing some of the evidence sitting across from him clear as day.

"I told you he'd need more proof, Little One," the woman his daughter identified as Lwaxana Troi said with slight amusement at what was happening before her.

"I know but Xander said he didn't want us to show more unless we absolutely had to," Zoey said, sounding like this 'Xander' was her superior officer or something similar.

Someone he'd have to have a word with if he got the chance.

"Well, unless, you want 'Jed' to call in the local law enforcers and state troopers looking for you after you leave, I'd say we absolutely have to." Lwaxana said, sounding like she wouldn't be averse to that outcome either.

"Fine. But if we're going to do anything we should bring Mom along so she doesn't freak out either," Zoey said, sounding as though she expected things to get complicated. "MOM! COULD YOU COME HERE?"

"Zoey?" Abbey said from the other room before the sound of footsteps could be heard getting closer. "How did you get back so soon? We weren't expecting you for another few days."

Expecting that his wife's reaction would be similar to his own, he moved towards the entrance to the room she'd be coming through so he could support her should the shock be too much. Less than a minute later Abbey appeared and he could tell the precise moment in which she saw their youngest daughter. Eyes widened, jaw dropped and a momentary cessation of movement before the concerned mother rushed over to Zoey to physically confirm what her eyes were telling her.

"What… how… why?" Abbey asked, unable to form a coherent question due to her shock.

"It'll all be explained in a moment, Mom," Zoey said, taking something out of her pocket before attaching it to the front of her mother's blouse.

Just then he felt pressure on his chest and looked down to see that some sort of badge had been attached to his shirt.

"Shuttle Copernicus, this is Away Team One," Zoey said after tapping the same sort of badge that was attached to her chest. "Four to beam up."

Before he could say or do anything a waterfall of stars and starlight cascaded down in front of his eyes. The room of the governor's mansion that'd been his family's home for many years began to fade away until it was completely gone. Then a new room began to fade into view, though, it looked more like some kind of closet or the back of a van given the limited amount of room. There were benches on either side of him as well as compartments similar to where you'd stow your carryon luggage on an airliner. What attracted most of his attention though was what he saw directly ahead of him: a window on the outside of which appeared to be a field of stars. It was only when one he sensed movement that he took notice of the one of two chairs just in front of the windshield of the… shuttle… turned to reveal the pilot.

"Welcome aboard, Governor Bartlet. Mrs. Bartlet," the dark haired woman said politely and without emotion.

It was then he noticed her pointed ears and the rather odd slant of her eyebrows, both of which seemed very, very real to him. He tried to find any sign that the ears were fake having been applied by some sort of movie makeup artist but, no matter how hard he looked, he could find nothing to confirm this. In the face of such compelling evidence he could only come to one conclusion.

This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a hallucination.

This was REAL.

 _ **Across the Street From the Harris Home**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"Good. They're both unconscious," he said after closing down the 'Next Generation' tricorder and putting it into its holster on his belt. "With a little luck we can get in, grab what we came for and be gone without waking them up."

"You don't want to tell them where you'll be going?" Kirk asked tentatively mixed with a little surprise.

"Nope. As far as I'm concerned Tony and Jessica Harris lost the right to the titles of father and mother a long time ago," he replied as he began to walk across the street towards the front door of the house he'd been living all his life. "Now they're just landlords and I don't plan on living with them a second longer now that I have someplace else to go to."

With that in mind he kicked over the flower pot, picked up the spare house key that'd been beneath it and unlocked the front door. Say what you will about Tony and Jessica, they at least had the sense to lock the door when they knew they'd be drinking themselves unconscious. Entering the house he was hit with the smells that were common to the household but he didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Kirk was turning up his nose at the odors. The smell of alcohol, sweat, spilled food and little if any house maintenance being done wasn't pleasant in the least. He'd reluctantly gotten used to it over the years but he'd never once come to like it but all his efforts in getting rid of it had resulted in Tony voicing his displeasure, followed by venting it physically. The bastard seemed to take any effort at cleaning the place up to be a personal insult to him, as if someone was calling him a pig or a sewer rat. Regardless of the fact that he was overweight and repulsive, Tony was suffering from the delusion that he was a man's man and that there was nothing wrong with him doing whatever he wanted with his home.

No matter how many health code violations it probably pissed on.

"Smells like a Klingon garbage scow!" Kirk muttered in disgust as they went upstairs to his bedroom. "How can anyone live like this?"

"By not caring about anyone other than themselves and having the lowest possible standards," he replied as they reached the second floor of the house. "We'll pick up the important things and leave the rest behind. It'll probably get sold at the local thrift store and pawn shop within a week of my 'disappearance'."

Opening the door to his room, he found it much the way he'd left it before heading to school the previous day: in a state that only to him could be considered organized. Immediately he went for a suitcase he'd gotten in preparation for the road trip he'd planned for after he graduated from high school. Popping it open he began to sift through all the things in his room, putting only the truly irreplaceable into the suitcase while leaving the rest where it lay. He took only the comic books or magazines that held sentimental value because of who'd given them to him or because of an event it commemorated. All the pictures that'd been taken over the course of his life were put into the suitcase as well, with the exception of any that featured Tony and Jessica. This was a new direction his life was taking, a fresh start, so he didn't want anything poisonous from his old one carrying over.

Looking over at Jim, he smirked as he watched the man idly examine the room with the same curiosity he probably would have looking about Renaissance Italy. It was probably just as well since Kirk wouldn't know what was important to him and what wasn't. It didn't take long for him to finish packing because, thanks to Tony's criminal expenditure of the family funds towards the procurement of ridiculous amounts of alcohol, he couldn't afford all that much. A lot of his funds came from sifting through the living room cushions where change slipped out of Tony and Jessica's pockets or from taking the empty bottles down to the recycler. Even scrimping and saving everything he had didn't leave a lot of room for buying things for himself and so he shut and locked the suitcase with only minimal difficulty.

"Well, I've got everything," he said turning to Kirk who looked away from the mini-TV he'd managed to buy at a yard sale.

It was then that he realized that there was one box that'd prove amusing if nothing else. Going to his closet, he immediately picked up the box full of videotapes and carried them over to the bed before setting it down.

"What are those?" Kirk asked, looking at the black objects.

"They're a way to record video and audio information," he replied, trying to put his responses into terms the man would understand. "I've been using them to record episodes of a television show I like called 'Star Trek'. It's what gave me the idea to dress up as you for Halloween. I thought you, Scotty and Bones might find watching them fun."

Seeing the slight grin on the man's face, his suspicion looked to be accurate.

Handing the suitcase to Kirk, he picked the box back up, leading the way as he left his old room and made his way for the staircase. So far everything had gone quite well and, if their luck held, they'd be out of the Harris home without any foul encounters with the two drunkards he'd been forced to live with. While he hadn't been familiar enough with how to work a tricorder to determine just where they were in their drink, fall unconscious, sleep and wake up pattern, what he'd seen had been good enough for him. It was only as he reached for the doorknob of the front door that he heard sounds he'd memorized that Tony Harris was about to wake up and in a foul mood.

"C'mon!" he said urgently as he yanked the door open and rushed through it.

Thankfully Kirk didn't stall or question him but rather followed him just as quickly. The door slammed behind them and, once he reached the other side of the street, he felt it was time to get away in a more expedient manner.

"Away team two to Copernicus," he said after tapping his com-badge. "Two to beam up. Energize."

Seconds later the predictable descending star pattern fell across his field of vision and less than a second later he found himself on the shuttlecraft but, to his surprise, there was not as much free space as he'd been expecting. Zoey and Lwaxana were there as he'd anticipated but there were two other older people who he hadn't been expecting. Given the current occupants of the shuttle he presumed they were Zoey's parents and that they'd been brought aboard to convince them more thoroughly. Seeing as how they couldn't bring the Enterprise closer, it seemed only logical that they use a shuttlecraft since it'd be harder to hit with a missile and perhaps capable of avoiding notice altogether. Now, though, he wished that the Enterprise-D came with runabout or three since they had a great deal more room to go around but, since it didn't, he'd make do with what he had.

"Well, since it seems that we're all full up, I'd say we should get back to the Enterprise," he said before turning to Willow in the pilot's chair. "Inform the other away teams the shuttle will be out of reach for the time being. Shouldn't take long for you to drop us off and get back to the maximum transporter range."

"Indeed," Willow said before she went about carrying out her orders.

"Governor Bartlet, Mrs. Bartlet, my name is Xander and, as Zoey's probably told you, things have gotten a lot more…interesting for us," he said, turning to the mid-fifties man and woman.

"I'll say…" Governor Bartlet said, sounding like he was only now beginning to come to grips with the situation.

"Have you tried asking this Q person to change everything back?" Mrs. Bartlet asked, sounding like she'd very much prefer everything went back to the way it'd been yesterday.

"No and that's because I don't think he would even if we did ask," he replied even as he sat down on the bench built into the sides of the shuttlecraft's interior. "Everything I know about him from the television show says he'll do whatever he wants to do until we've done what he wants us to do or his fellow Q step in to shut him down. If the Q we're dealing with is anything like the one in the show, he'll ignore our requests unless they suit him, laugh off our demands and teach us a lesson if we try to get in his face. He'll probably just come up with something worse to put us through if we try to push him too far."

"But what right does he have to force you all into this!?" Mrs. Bartlet asked, clearly upset at the idea that her daughter was going into danger. "You're all just kids!"

"I haven't been 'just a kid' in over fourteen years Mrs. Bartlet," he said with all seriousness in his voice. "As for the others, most of them could pass for human so, if they didn't want to be involved in Q's little mission, they could've backed out and for those that don't look human we'd have found a work around for. All of them decided to sign on for this."

"I know it's going to be dangerous, Mom," Zoey said with some seriousness but also with some of her excitement leaking through, "but this is like getting a chance to fight alongside the Three Musketeers or be one of the passengers aboard the Galactica. This is a chance to live the dream. I couldn't pass it up!"

"But this isn't a story! This is real life!" Mrs. Bartlet said in protest of allowing the changed to proceed down the path they were standing on.

"From what I've read about our mission we have time before we have to be on our way," he said, trying to come up with a compromise. "You'll have until the departure time to talk to Zoey and convince her to go back to Earth with you."

"And this Q will let her go if she chooses to stay on Earth?" Governor Bartlet asked, sounding like he was suspicious about that point.

"He might try to argue his side of the story a bit but I think he will," he replied after some thought. "The only time I think he'd actually say no is if enough of us choose to stay on Earth that there aren't enough to run the ship, even with automation."

"If this Q is so powerful, can't he just bring people from the same universe as this ship to crew it?" Mrs. Bartlet asked, sounding like she wanted to press the issue now.

"If this Q and his kind are anything like the ones from the show, I'm betting he's pushing his luck as it is with what he's done so far," he replied, wondering for a moment if another Q would soon be popping in to finger snap everything back to the way it used to be. "It's kinda like stealing cookies from the cookie jar. One or two won't be missed but start taking a lot and you'll get caught."

This seemed to satisfy the woman but he could tell that she still planned on trying to convince the lot of them to stand down and let more experienced adults handle the Goa'uld.

Assuming Q's information could be trusted, though, more experienced adults had been given control and the galaxy had almost ended multiple times.

He honestly didn't think he could do worse than that and with a little luck they might even do better.

 _ **The Residential Area of Sunnydale**_

 _ **Buffy's POV**_

"This is nae gonna be good," she said, her newly gained Scottish accent manifesting along with her increasing anxiety. "Nae good at all."

"It'll be fine, lass," Scotty said as her house came into view. "She might get a wee bit angry but she'll get over it. We brought enough proof, didn't we?"

She had to concede that bringing a mobile holographic generator, a hand phaser and a mobile force field generator would make for some rather convincing evidence. Then again they were in Sunnydale at the moment and for her that meant that, unless the truth came up and growled nose to nose with you, most citizens would find a way to rationalize away the truth. So there was a distinct chance that even with all this evidence her mother might cling to her definition of reality, but if that happened she could still use the last resort option that Xander had mentioned. She'd have to wait a while since they'd been told that the shuttle would be heading back to Enterprise in order to drop off some passengers but she had the time.

Time was something she'd felt slipping away from her ever since she'd been Called as the Slayer, since the one point that Merrick and Giles had made loud and clear was that Slayers didn't last long after being Called. As a result she'd felt like there was a timer counting down her last hours, minutes, seconds of life. That was why she'd done all she could to live her life to the fullest and squeeze as much 'normal' as she could into every day. She didn't want to die as the Slayer not having experienced so many of the things that made life worth living. Contrary to what the others might think, she knew how… unconventional her relationship with Angel was and that it had a low chance of survival. He was a vampire. She was a human. He had weaknesses that would make any relationship difficult to say the least. It was unlikely that she would live more than another year or two. They'd never have children

Nevertheless, when she'd felt the familiar flicker of lust and potentially love upon spending some time with Angel, she'd decided to let things develop. The odds were that she'd be dead long before she could no longer ignore the differences between the two of them, as well avoid seeing the doomed conclusion on the horizon.

Now she had an option to avoid the end of all Slayers and all she had to do was take it.

After all, there were no demons in space or at least none she'd need to concern herself with. Plus being aboard a starship when the Watcher's Council didn't even have access to a contemporary NASA shuttle, it wasn't like the stuffy Brits could force her to do her 'duty'. Sure, she'd probably have to be careful any time she set foot back on Earth just in case they were waiting to ambush her but, so long as she was careful and had backup, she was sure she'd be alright.

Still, as she made her way up the front walkway of her home, her anxiety went up as the time of her revelation to her mother approached. Given how her Mom had reacted when she'd tried to tell her about being the Slayer and the existence of vampires, it was a safe bet that denial would be the first reaction along with incredulity. She and Scotty would have their work cut out for them breaking through those two responses so that the truth would be accepted.

Once they were at the front she took a big breath in the hopes of calming down enough that she'd be able to handle what was about to happen but it didn't work as well as she'd hoped. Thus she reached up and knocked on the door instead of just walking right in to let her mother control the situation. This would be a big enough shock for the woman as it was without coming off as too hostile. It didn't take long for her to hear feet approaching the door and then it finally opened to reveal her mother, both recognition as well as shock were quick to manifest themselves.

"B-Buffy?" Mom asked with her mind at war with what her eyes were telling her.

"Hi, mom," she said, scrambling for the right thing to say. "There's something we need to talk about. Inside."

Still, in quite a bit shock, her mother stepped aside to let her and Scotty enter the house. This was a good thing since it would've been dangerous for her mother to verbally invite them in since that was how vampires were able to cross the private threshold of their victims. If she wound up successfully convincing her mother that there was a sci-fi ship in orbit, it might be worthwhile to convince her of the existence of vampires and demons as well. Being on the Enterprise, she was going to be away from home for varying periods of time and therefore not be able to protect her from the things that prowled Sunnydale at night.

Once they were inside she went over to her favorite chair in the living room and sat down, with Scotty taking a seat in the chair closest to the front door. Whether he did this so that he could make a quick escape or to divide her mother's attention to make it harder for her to focus her denial she didn't know. To be honest, she didn't care and focused on what she had to do and say.

"I have a story to tell you, mom, and I need you to promise me you won't interrupt until I'm done," she said with as much seriousness as she could muster. "I know you'll have questions but please wait until I'm done. Do you promise?"

A nod was all she got from her mother but it was better than being overwhelmed with questions and demands.

Bit by bit she laid out what'd happened from the moment she'd gone with Xander to to pick out what they'd be wearing when they chaperoned the elementary kids to an hour earlier when they'd all left the Enterprise in the shuttlecraft. Her story had been a bit disjointed and she knew that the Scottish accent she'd gained from the time that Scotty had been in her body was flaring up, but her mother remained true to the promise to wait until the end before saying anything.

"This… this can't be possible," Mom said, clearly not willing to give up on denial just yet. "Becoming an adult… spaceships… aliens… it's impossible."

"I know it's hard, Mum, but it's all true," she said, praying that this wouldn't be a repeat of two years ago when she'd gotten tossed into an asylum. "Scotty and I brought proof if you need to see it."

Looking at the man in his mid-twenties, she nodded and watched as he took the backpack off and took out the mobile holographic generator. To the common eye it looked like a high tech hot plate but she'd seen it work so she knew that it wasn't a cooking tool. With the press of a button what had once been empty air above the device now showed a man and a woman in formal wear, dancing to classical music that was being emitted from built in speakers in the side. It still amazed her to see it because it was far above anything she'd seen before and to know that it wasn't Hollywood magic made it seem that much more fantastic.

Her mother looked to be equally entranced at the sight and, predictably, walked over the mobile generator before waving her hand through the hologram, as though to see if it were solid. There was barely any distortion in the image as the solid hand passed through it and it corrected itself instantly. Her mother did it twice, most likely to confirm what she'd seen of the first but, when nothing different happened, the woman stopped. Nevertheless she could tell that her mom wasn't quite willing to accept everything she'd been told, though the mobile holographic generator had been a step in the right direction.

 _Fine! Time to move on to step two,_ she thought as she pulled her phaser from its holster and set it to disintegrate.

Looking at the room, she looked for something her mother wouldn't miss but would make a suitable target for this display of proof. It took her a while but eventually she chose a trashcan sitting next to the wall. Taking aim, she pushed the firing stud and, at the speed of light, a beam of crimson energy crossed the gap before striking, causing it to vanish just as quickly. This shocked her mother and reflexively caused the woman to back away from the deadly weapon, even though it wasn't pointed at her. While she knew that the fear wasn't being directed at her, it still hurt to see her mother retreat from her position. With the resolve she used facing vampires she forced her hurt feelings aside and focused on the fact that she was sure she had her mother's complete belief in her tale.

"This is real, mum, and I want to do what I can to help keep these Goold things away from Earth," she said, trying to be both calm and comforting. "I just wanted to let you know before we left."

"LEFT?!" Mom exclaimed in vigorous opposition. "You're going nowhere, young lady! If these… these… BAD ALIENS… are going to attack Earth, you'll just give the ship and everything on it to the government. They can handle it!"

"I thought of that, too, but after we talked about it we decided that'd be a bad idea," she said, recalling the conversation she'd had with the others.

"Why is it a bad idea? They have to have people with more experience and skill," Mom said, not comprehending how anyone could come to the conclusion that trusting the government was a bad idea.

"Because the Enterprise has weapons that vaporize a person in the blink of an eye, blast entire cities out of existence from orbit and give the American G.I. Joes ridiculous advantage over other countries," she explained, going over the conclusion the rest of them had come to. "Do you really think they're not going to use the leg up the Enterprise could give them to bully every other country? Do you really think they're going to be able to keep the weapons out of the wrong hands?"

"And you can?!" Mom asked, sounding incredulous at the possibility.

"If the government never finds out about them and we keep everything up on the ship? Yes," she replied since to her the solution was obvious. "Last I checked, no one on the planet could send people past the moon, never mind take over a ship from over three centuries into the future of another reality. They won't get any of our tech unless we give it to them or screw up somehow."

"And if these aliens, these Goold, take them from you?" Mom asked, not willing to let up on her side of the argument.

"Then we'll likely all be dead so it won't be our problem anymore," she said in a way that was supposed to be 'talking about the weather' funny but the look on her mother's face implied it'd been taken the wrong way.

She couldn't help but mentally sigh at this since she figured she'd just earned herself another hour of yelling, lecturing and general arguing.

"If you're going into that kind of trouble then I'm coming with you!" Mom said with a resolve that in the past had taken the argument equivalent of an atom bomb to put a dent in.

"Huh?"

She hadn't seen that coming.

 _ **A Certain Sunnydale Apartment Building**_

 _ **Giles' POV**_

"Reminds me of my professor's apartment at Ole Miss," Doctor McCoy said as they entered his flat. "He had a thing for books and old antiques, too."

"Yes, well, I find knowledge is more tactile in its written form than on a computer," he said as he set about for an extended leave of absence from the Hellmouth. "It… it has substance, a smell, that makes it more real. As for the 'antiques', they are proof that the past existed."

"Proof that the past existed?" McCoy asked even as he began gathering up a few volumes he'd been meaning to read and commit to memory.

"Humans have such limited lifespans that we rely on books and other methods of writing down knowledge in order to pass on any knowledge gained. However that relies on the honesty and accuracy of the people who recorded the information in the first place," he explained as he neared the end of his collecting of books. "Given human nature, inaccuracies are bound to occur however with physical proof such as these antiques we can discover for ourselves what we wish to know about the past."

"Makes sense to me," McCoy said with understanding. "But what if the antiques are fakes or tell a story that's biased from the truth?"

"That, my good doctor, is where human reason and research come into play," he replied, finishing his selection of books.

Indeed, it was the lack of these two elements that had him shaking his head in disappointment at the American education system. Most students at Sunnydale High School had absolutely no real interest in learning or in exercising their minds. Instead they chose to simply memorize what they were taught, regurgitate it for a test and then forget most of it before even a day had passed. History, the sciences, and literature meant little to them unless it was in a horribly distorted form commonly used by mainstream entertainment media. He'd tried on one occasion to point out several inaccuracies in a movie they'd watched together but he could tell precisely when they stopped actually listening to him and merely nodded at random to indulge him. When he'd chastised them about it, Xander had pointed out that the whole point of watching a movie was to forget about reality and just enjoy the story being told.

Personally he believed that the brain, like any muscle, needed to be exercised or else it'd atrophy.

Sadly it looked like the youth of America suffered from mental obesity just as they did physical obesity.

Going up the stairs to his bedroom, it didn't take him long to find the suitcases and he began to pack a week's worth of clothing. He wasn't entirely unaware of Star Trek and what the television show was about but his knowledge implied they needed supplies just like contemporary sea faring vessels. As such he would prefer some of his own clothing be available to be worn rather than walk about in the Starfleet uniforms they now wore. It wasn't that the uniforms were uncomfortable but rather he couldn't quite bring himself to consider them normal attire. To him they were still costumes, fitting only to be worn on Halloween or at a costume party. It would likely take weeks, if not months, of repeatedly wearing it before it became normal to walk around wearing the red and black outfit.

 _In fact it would probably be prudent to arrange for the landlord to withdraw the monthly rent automatically from my savings account,_ he thought as he realized one of the issues of being away for weeks if not months.

RRRIIIIIINNNGGG! RRRIIIIIINNNGGG!

Hearing his phone ring, he stopped packing his clothes and made his way quickly down the stairs in order to answer it. McCoy was in the kitchen, apparently hungry enough to fix himself a meal and familiar enough with the layout of most kitchens to be able to find what he needed.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively.

"Well it's about time!" came a familiar voice over the line. "Where the bloody hell have you been?!"

It was the last person he wanted to speak with at the moment: Quentin Travers, head of the Watcher's Council.

"I regret to say that I have been a ways away from any phones the last twenty-four hours or so," he replied, keeping calm and not letting on that anything was the matter. "Is there some reason you needed to speak with me?"

"Our seers have informed us that Slayer Summers has been torn from the grip of the Powers That Be and a potential Slayer in Boston has been Called," Travers replied, sounding quite put out. "Now you will explain what has happened and you will explain NOW."

 _Quite petulant when he doesn't get his way, isn't he?_ he thought with a mental roll of his eyes before saying. "I am still investigating the particulars but I believe a spell of considerable strength was cast in Sunnydale. Sadly I was rendered unconscious by it and only woke up this morning."

"And Slayer Summers?" Travers asked, sounding somewhat less irritated.

"I am afraid I do not know where Buffy is at the moment," he replied, truthfully knowing that a lie would be quickly detected if he attempted it. "I last heard from her yesterday when she said that she would be chaperoning elementary school children when they went trick or treating."

He wasn't lying that he didn't know where Buffy was since she could very well be at her home, on the shuttlecraft or on the Enterprise at the moment. As for the last time he spoke to her, it had been during the last time she called prior to the spell being cast that she had informed her of the activity Snyder had assigned to her. Given his suspicion that he and the others had been changed at a level more than skin deep, it was a valid concern whether she was still Buffy Summers, or Elizabeth Scott, on a biological level. He was telling the truth but was employing out of date truth.

"And you've not seen her since?" Travers asked, his tone obviously signifying reduced respect for his subordinate.

"I assure you I am making every effort to get ahold of her," he replied, mentally meaning to physically get ahold of her rather than simply contact her via the phone.

"See that you do, Watcher Giles. We must determine how this was done and Slayer Summers can aid in that one way or another," Travers said, making it clear he didn't particularly care if she was found alive or dead. "This is the first recorded incident of a Slayer being stolen from the service of the Powers That Be and the seers have been unable to determine who the culprit is. If demonkind is somehow behind this, the repercussions could be grave indeed."

He had to admit that if a demon had somehow managed to wrench a Slayer from the grip of the Powers That Be, it could imply that the girl was being converted to the other side. Another possibility was that demons might have learned to nullify the Calling, turning the Slayer back into an ordinary young woman. Both would be devastating if they turned out to be true and would require that the Council take immediate action in order to stop a terrible shifting of 'The Balance'.

"I shall expect a progress report from you in one week," Travers said in a tone that made it clear he would not be denied. "Goodbye."

With that he was hung up on and never did he so relish the ending of a conversation.

"An arrogant bureaucrat with delusions of his own importance?" McCoy asked, sounding like he had experience of his own with such people.

"Quite. I am fortunate in that in a week's time both Buffy as well as I shall be quite a ways away from Earth and therefore beyond his reach," he replied, imagining Travers expending all sorts of effort to locate him and Buffy, to the point of sending a search team to Sunnydale.

They'd find nothing, of course.

Still, the news that a new Slayer had been Called reassured him somewhat since it meant that, once Buffy was noted as 'missing' for a prolonged period of time, Travers would likely relocate the new Slayer to Sunnydale. Leaving a Hellmouth unprotected for any significant length of time was dangerous and, despite his pompous attitude, Travers knew this all too well. It lifted a concern off his shoulders that had been there since the others had chosen to follow through on the mission the being known as 'Q' had dropped in their laps. Regardless of the gravity of an alien attack from above, that didn't mean that they could just forget about the threat from the Hellmouth. Without a Slayer to keep the demons in check, it was inevitable that one of them would attempt and possibly succeed in opening the Hellmouth beneath the high school.

The image of an unending horde of demons of all shapes and sizes pouring out of it, massacring every mortal creature they came into contact with, it made him shudder.

"And what was all that horse pucky about a 'spell' rendering you unconscious?" McCoy asked, clearly stating that he thought the idea of magic was complete nonsense.

"Suffice it to say, Doctor McCoy, that in this reality magic and demons are as real as science and aliens are in your reality," he replied, deciding that it would be best to go with honesty.

"You mean turning people into toads and horned monsters, they're real here?" McCoy asked, sounding like he hadn't quite been sold on the revelation.

"Transfiguration of a human being into a toad is possible, though the greater the difference in mass and composition, the more powerful the sorcerer would need to be, to say nothing of his experience," he replied, keeping things completely casual. "As for horned demons, there are several species that would fit that description."

"Are all of them… dangerous?" McCoy asked as he began to realize that the conversation was indeed serious.

"No. While the majority of demons are hostile towards humans, there exists species that take a position of neutrality regarding our kind and some are even benevolent," he replied as he went back upstairs to pack. "Sadly mankind's history has made forging an alliance with the benevolent species somewhat problematic, to say nothing of indoctrinated views of 'demons evil, humans good' that we have been taught for centuries."

"Have any attempts been made to overcome these difficulties?" McCoy yelled in inquiry from the bottom of the staircase.

"Not to my knowledge," he replied as he entered his room. "Up until two centuries ago human superstition and general fear of anything not human kept diplomacy from remaining stable. After that mankind was encouraged to put its faith in science and reject anything that didn't fall within the rules laid down by authorities on the subject. While my current and perhaps future ex-employers are aware of certain divisions each major government has to deal with the supernatural and demonic, few among them take recorded facts seriously. They try to learn more 'scientifically', regardless of the risk."

"Ignoring the past is rarely a good idea," McCoy said, his voice echoing up the stairs.

"Indeed it isn't," he said as he resumed putting clothes into his suitcase.

With that in mind he decided he would have to review the information Q had provided them with concerning the Goa'uld. If they were to have any luck defending Earth from them, they would need as thorough an understanding of the race as they possibly could obtain.

In other words: research.

 _ **Enterprise-D Shuttle Bay**_

 _ **Willow's POV**_

"Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Governor," she said as she disembarked with them onto the ship.

"I'm honored to be here," Governor Bartlet said, looking about the shuttle bay in a tone she interpreted as acceptance of the new truths he'd been exposed to.

"While it would be customary to offer you a tour of the ship, I must pilot the Copernicus back into Earth orbit in order to retrieve the remaining away teams," she said as she prepared to re-enter the shuttlecraft.

"Go ahead with the tour, Willow," Xander said as he handed the suitcase he'd been holding over to Kirk. "I can pilot the shuttle just as well as you, plus it'd probably be a good idea to get some real life practice with the tech. No telling when I'll have to take the wheel in the future."

"That is logical," she admitted after brief contemplation. "Very well, I shall give them a tour of the ship. Upon your return I recommend we convene in the observation lounge so that we may conclude any remaining business we have in the Sol system."

"Sounds like a plan," Xander said with his customary lopsided grin. "See ya later!"

With that her friend entered the shuttle and triggered the rear hatch. Seconds later she heard the hum of the spacecraft's impulse engines just as it ascended off the deck plate then she watched as it was propelled forward, passing through the force field. Once it was clear the main shuttle bay doors descended, letting out an audible boom once they finished closing and were successfully secured.

"If you will follow me, we can begin the tour." She gestured to the entrance to the shuttle bay.

When she saw them moving towards her, she took the lead, with both Zoey Bartlet and Lwaxana Troi taking up the rear, keeping both the governor and his wife between them. It was not that they considered the civilians a security risk but rather to ensure their safety while on board the Enterprise. All of the technology that existed here was centuries ahead of what they were familiar with and, even though the LCARS operating system was very intuitive, there was still the potential for complications. By being both ahead as well as behind the Bartlets, they could intercept each of them should their curiosity get the better of them.

In her mind she began to construct a route through the ship that would show them the most relevant parts while leaving the irrelevant areas untouched. It would after all take a great deal more time than they had to go through all, so she decided to start with the bridge and work her way down to deck thirty-six. As such she led them to the nearest turbolift.

"Main bridge," she said, activating the voice controlled systems, "Much like the name implies, it is where much of the main systems can be accessed and controlled. There is a secondary bridge that can be utilized if saucer separation becomes necessary but the majority of the time it remains secured."

They soon reached their destination and they exited onto the empty bridge. Before the various away teams had disembarked aboard the shuttlecraft they'd made the necessary course corrections in order to keep the ship on the dark side of the moon for the hours they'd be gone. Allowing the others to gaze about the area, she went to a forward station and slid into the chair attached to it, checking the status of the ship. She was gratified to see that they were indeed still on the dark side of the moon and, according to the readings, they would not need to correct their course for another three hours.

"As you can see the bridge has various stations from which the ship's systems can be controlled," she said, turning to face the Bartlets and Miss Troi. "The station I am currently sitting at controls systems relevant to navigation while the one next to it is the operations console, which is used to utilize ship sensors both internal as well as external."

Getting out of the chair attached to the helm console, she walked to the halfway point between it and the captain's chair before gesturing to the latter.

"This as I expect you have already deduced is the captain's chair, flanked by the first officer's chair to the right and an additional officer to the left," she said, pointing to each chair in turn. "In the television series the ship's counselor Deanna Troi was most often seen sitting in the left chair."

"Yes, my daughter had a great deal of influence aboard the Enterprise," Miss Troi said, sounding quite proud of her offspring. "Jean-Luc would have been blown to bits years ago if my Little One hadn't used her abilities to help him."

While not entirely correct, it was true from the episodes she'd watched with Xander that Deanna Troi played an important role in discerning the intent of the alien species that the ship and her crew encountered. Without her input there was a strong possibility that the ship would have been destroyed during one of their early missions, or at the very least seriously damaged with a large number of casualties.

"Behind them is the tactical console, which controls the weapons and the shields while also having access to communications and long range sensors," she explained as she led them to the rear of the bridge. "Behind tactical were additional console stations that could be customized to fit a variety of needs, ranging from scientific to mission operations to engineering."

Walking for one of the aft left door, she led them into the observation lounge, giving them what could be considered a breathtaking view of the moon. She could tell that this sight was having a profound effect on the two parents, since normally they only saw such things via telescopes or from on board a space shuttle. She would admit that the first time she had looked out the window to view space she had felt a sense of awe and curiosity. Indeed, while the threat of the Goa'uld had to take priority, she looked forward to the day when she along with the others could resume the ship's mission of peaceful exploration and scientific discovery. While much had changed since she had been turned into Spock's unofficial 'daughter', her thirst for knowledge had not wavered.

With the technology available aboard the Enterprise-D and her own improved mental capabilities, she could learn so much to say nothing of the sights she would see.

"This is the observation lounge where the senior staff meets to discuss daily status reports as well as current missions," she explained as they walked the length of the conference table. "It comes equipped with holographic emitters built into the table as well as display screens, both of which could be used for briefings."

"Holographic emitters?" Mrs. Bartlet asked, sounding like she thought she'd misheard.

Walking over to the nearest emitter, she typed in a series of commands and watched as a holographic representation of the Sol system appeared over the table. Each planet was amazingly well detailed rather than being represented via simple icons accompanied by basic information as was seen in the television series. She felt confident that if she selected a planet and magnified it she would observe the planet in real time, looking every bit as real as though the she was mere feet from it.

"While there are limitations in what can be projected due to the size of the emitters, they are few enough that they do not inconvenience the user," she said, stepping aside to allow the two guests to get a closer look at the image of the solar system.

"This is incredible," Governor Bartlet said with amazement as he brought himself almost nose to nose with the image.

"Indeed. It is but the first of many technological marvels you will encounter during the course of the tour," she said, acknowledging that the resources of the ship were impressive when compared with Earth's current level of development. "If you will follow me we will continue."

The next part of the tour was on deck two and she believed that Mrs. Bartlet would be particularly fascinated by it, given her official title and professional knowledge base.

Sickbay.

"This is the medical center aboard the Enterprise-D," she said, walking through the retracting doors. "While its primary function is to tend to any crew member afflicted if an injury or illness, it can also aid in the analyses of any new life form that might be encountered. It is made up of an intensive care unit, possesses a variety of surgical facilities not to mention laboratories for when an unknown disease or illness is encountered."

Much as she'd suspected would happen Doctor Bartlet let her eyes wander the room and obviously felt the temptation to pick up some of the medical instruments she came across. She didn't actually do so, no doubt because she was afraid that she might hurt herself by accident due to her unfamiliarity with each of them. In a moment of inspiration she decided to help in overcoming that obstacle. Walking over to a nearby shelf she picked up a medical tricorder and, after confirming its functionality, strode over to the Bartlet family.

"This is a medical tricorder. Unlike standard tricorders it is designed with sensors and analysis software specifically tailored for medical diagnostic purposes," she said before removing the hand scanner from the tricorder. "Allow me to demonstrate."

Activating the hand scanner she aimed its scanning node at Governor Bartlet before activating it and slowly making a pass over the man's body without altering her posture. After making three passes in order to achieve a complete scan she manipulated its controls to have the information appear on the main display screen in the room.

"While capable of making detailed scans of an individual, a medical tricorder is still limited," she said as various bits of medical data popped up. "It is meant as tool for field medicine to provide medical staff with as much knowledge of a patient's status where it is impractical to bring bulkier scanning equipment."

Doctor Bartlet immediately went to the display and looked to be trying to commit every bit of information to memory while also being VERY impressed with what a couple seconds of scanning could uncover about her husband. Based on her changing expressions and other physical signs, it was obvious the older woman was learning new information about her husband she hadn't known about before. That was to be expected since a great number of new terms and levels of medicine had been created in the gap between the late twentieth century and the time of the Enterprise-D. Indeed it would likely take many months of intense study before Doctor Bartlet would be able to comprehend all the information she was seeing.

It was then that she herself noticed something interesting about the scan.

While it was true that her current knowledge base, even including what she was gradually incorporating from her mind meld with Spock, did not include much involving medicine she still knew enough to make sense of what she was seeing. There were early signs of lesions within the central nervous system and some light tissue atrophy showing in the brain that, while not serious enough to be noticeable on the outside, would still leave traces in the body. Concerned for the wellbeing of Zoey's father, since it would no doubt affect her performance if he were to fall ill or worse die, she committed the readings to memory so she could consult the medical database later. It was possible she was concerned for no reason but, in her limited medical expertise, any ailment that occurred in the brain or the nervous system was not to be taken lightly.

"Amazing," Doctor Bartlet said, finally managing to tear her eyes away from the information on the main sickbay display screen. "Is there any way you could transfer all this information to a portable hard drive?"

"The data will need to be reconfigured and condensed in order to be viewed using current computer technology, but it is possible," she replied after a few seconds of consideration. "It will take two point three hours to complete. If you would like to remain aboard the Enterprise it can be in your hands within minutes of completion."

"We'd be honored, Miss…?" Governor Bartlet said, obviously looking for more.

"My name is Willow Rosenberg, however if you are looking to address me by rank the chain of command has not yet been established." she replied even as she contemplated possible scenarios.

"Well, Miss Rosenberg, shall we see the rest of the ship before turning in?" Governor Bartlet asked with an interested smile as he gestured towards the door.

"Indeed," she replied before taking the lead once more.


	4. A New Crew And A New Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my stories. Therefore I would appreciate it if I didn't get sued for writing this and many other stories. I doubt whatever I wound up having to pay would cover even a fifth of your legal fees.

 _ **The Summers Home**_

 _ **Scotty's POV**_

"This is nae gonna end well," Elizabeth said as she continued to pace waiting for her mother to finish packing. "I just know it."

"You're worried over nothing, lass," he said as he tried to comfort the young woman who was to be his student in the engineering arts. "I'll admit I can understand why you want her to stay here but it's not like the Enterprise doesn't have room."

Indeed, the Enterprise could safely house up to three thousand people if need be, so there were quite a few vacant quarters for Missus Summers to choose from. Add to that the replicators for food, clothes and other necessities… all the necessities would be covered. While he hadn't had a chance yet to look over the technical specifications of the ships and weapons of the Goa'uld, he was confident that any ship named Enterprise would be able to take anything thrown at her. With him and Elizabeth working in engineering, Missus Summers would be safe enough on the ship. Besides that, he was sure that Admiral Kirk would teach Alexander how to be a proper Captain and that the lad wouldn't put ship or crew in any unnecessary danger.

He'd already told the lass all of this but it didn't do much other than stop the lass from openly arguing with her mother and start her predictions about how it'd all end.

"But look at what she's leaving behind!" Eliza exclaimed, turning around so quickly that her scarlet hair swayed violently. "Her art gallery! Her house! The rest of her family!"

"You don't seem to have a problem leaving behind your school, your house and the rest of your family, young lady," Missus Summers said as she came down the stairs, with a suitcase in each hand. "I've already spoken with my assistant at the gallery, telling her that I'm taking a trip with you to find new sources of art and clients. I've already asked our accountant to automatically take out money to pay the monthly bills 'until we get back'. As for our family, none of them are due to pay us a visit so I doubt they'll know we're gone."

He could see Elizabeth trying to come up with another argument but, when nothing but signs of frustration manifested themselves, he guessed she'd failed.

"Fine! Then let's get over to Giles' apartment so we can contact the shuttlecraft," Eliza said as she strode with frustration towards the front door.

Watching her go, there was only one thing he could say.

"The lass has a temper to match her hair and that's a fact."

"You have NO idea, Mister Scott!" Missus Summers remarked, making it clear she thought his opinion was an understatement. "Fortunately it's nothing compared to mine."

"Tha' I can believe," he muttered as he carried the proof on his back as they left the house.

Together they walked over to what he remembered to be a civilian transport common to this time period. Fortunately he remembered his trip back to the twentieth century Earth of his reality so he knew how to get into one, so within minutes the three of them were rolling down the street. It was a remarkably smooth ride but he could still feel subtle vibrations accompanied by the occasional bump. Compared to riding in a shuttlecraft or on board the Enterprise, though, it was decidedly different but not unpleasant. Seeing the houses and parked transports pass by he noted how the sun was dropping ever closer to the horizon, he found it odd now sinister the stretching shadows were looking.

 _I know they say that vampires and weres exist here but I just cannae bring myself to believe it,_ he thought with a tone of denial.

Throughout his career in Starfleet he had seen things, experienced things, that'd caused him to question what he knew about the universe on more than one occasion. However his faith in science and its ability to explain all the mysteries of the galaxy remained strong and steady. Like many Starfleet officers, they were aware of how sufficiently advanced technology or science could be indistinguishable to less developed civilizations from magic. Add to that the fact that there were records of alien races visiting or even living on Earth prior to 'First Contact' and it'd be easy for people to mistake them for demons of some kind.

It was true that he could not fathom how he'd gone from travelling the galaxy aboard the shuttlecraft Goddard to winding up in a young lass' body to being put in a body no different from the one he'd had during his first posting after graduating from the Academy. He had, of course, heard a few stories from Geordi about the powerful being known as Q so that was one possible explanation, but much like the greatest minds of the Federation, he didn't know how Q could do what he could. It was much like his Enterprise's encounter with the being who called himself Trelane because, even in the years following, neither Mister Spock nor anyone else could figure the 'child' out.

Of course that didn't stop his imagination from conjuring images of ghosts and goblins hiding in the shadows, waiting for night to fall so that they could have free reign over the small town.

It didn't take them long to reach Mister Giles' apartment and, as far as timing went, it proved to be excellent since both the man and Doctor McCoy were exiting the building. McCoy looked to be carrying a box filled with books while Giles had two suitcases in his hands. A bit much considering that it was likely that anything and everything they'd need could be produced using the replicators aboard the Enterprise. True, there'd almost certainly be some personal keepsakes and items that they would want to bring with them on what was likely to be a long journey but… this much?

Then again when you were in Starfleet you learned to limit what you took with you since your quarters were rarely spacious starting out and, even when you achieved a rank that allowed for larger ones, changing assignments made acquiring too many possessions impractical.

"Missus Summers?" Mister Giles asked upon seeing the woman exit the ground transport. "To, uh, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"My considerably older daughter has told me about the starship and what you all plan on doing," Missus Summers replied in a tone has hard as stone. "I'm coming with you."

With that the woman went to the rear luggage compartment of the ground transport to get her belongings, completely ignoring the surprised look on Mister Giles' and Doctor McCoy's face. The surprise didn't last long and, judging from the look on the Englishman's face, he was about to argue against the woman accompanying them back to the Enterprise. Seeing as how he needed to get to his new engines sooner rather than later so that he could begin to learn everything he could about them, he decided to step in.

"Don't even try, laddie," he said, putting a light restraining hand on the man's shoulder. "The young lass has already tried talking her out of it and it didn't work. I doubt you'll fare much better."

Giles looked at Elizabeth, who with a displeased look on her face, shrugged as if to imply 'I tried but it didn't work'.

"Very well," Giles said with some dissatisfaction. "I trust that you at least tied up any loose ends before coming here?"

"Yes. The bills will be paid for automatically and my employee at the gallery can handle things until I get back," Missus Summers replied with utmost certainty. "We will be back, won't we?"

"While we will need to examine the galactic situation and choose a course of action first, I imagine we will return every once in a while in order to ensure that nothing has happened during our absence," Giles replied after a moment's thought.

"Good. I can use those times to check up on the gallery and make sure that all the bills have been paid and that the gallery is doing okay," Missus Summers said, sounding satisfied that her old life wouldn't be completely abandoned by this new development. "So, when do we 'beam up'?"

"Just as soon as Cordelia gets here with Neras," Giles replied even as he looked about to see if said girl was approaching. "The less time the shuttlecraft remains in orbit waiting for us, the less chance there is that it will be detected by government satellites in orbit."

It was a sound choice and in keeping with the Prime Directive.

Even with their ties to the planet, it looked as though Elizabeth and her friends saw the sense in not contaminating the natural development of a pre-warp civilization. This Earth was still divided by ethnicity, nationality, religion, class and many other things. Both the introduction of advanced knowledge and their very presence could change all that in ways that could not be predicted. While he would not block them from tending to their terrestrial responsibilities, they'd all have to do the best they could to minimize potential contamination. When he had the time he'd look through the files onboard the Enterprise for additional options available to them to further conceal their presence from the inhabitants of late twentieth century Earth. He already had a few ideas about modifying the shields and one or two that'd involve manipulating the information being sent from the orbiting satellites down to the Earth. It'd take some doing but he still had all the knowledge he had from his old body and that meant he'd still be able to defend his title as a miracle worker.

Hearing a sound he knew to be caused by a ground transport, he turned to see one painted bright red coming into view from around a corner. However what really caught his attention was the fact that whoever was driving the vehicle had loaded it to capacity with boxes and suitcases while keeping it all from falling off due to judicious use of rope and tape. A piss poor job in his opinion but that was probably his engineering instincts talking. Keeping a federation starship running required attention to detail as well as a great deal of precision. Besides that, he always took a great deal of pride in his work so seeing someone else just slap something together that defied probability every moment it stayed together was offensive to be seen.

Once it got close enough everyone could see Cordelia in the driver's seat, with Neras sitting next to her in the passenger seat. The car came to a briefly screeching halt just behind Missus Summers' vehicle and that almost proved to be enough to snap the bindings keeping the various suitcases and boxes on or in the car. Looking at the others present, he could tell that the they were as incredulous about the sheer amount of things Cordelia wanted to bring with her.

"You do realize, Cordelia, the replicators aboard the Enterprise can provide you with many of the things you have here, yes?" Giles asked with a little difficulty as he tried to conceal his incredulity. "A suitcase or two, a box perhaps, would be reasonable. This… is excessive."

"As if! I might not be a geek like Harris or Rosenberg but even I've seen the fashion disasters those people wear!" Cordelia exclaimed as though the very idea of leaving her things behind was stupid. "If my old life is over then I'm taking as much of it with me as I can!"

"I tried to tell her to leave it behind but she wouldn't listen," Neras said, sounding exasperated by her 'student's' behavior.

"Like you're one to talk!" Cordelia snapped back angrily, looking at the Orion woman. "You might wear next to nothing but every bit of it is planned out to make males think with their little heads instead of their big ones! You know the value of clothes!"

"I never said I didn't!" Neras declared, turning to fully face Cordelia. "I also know when to dump dead weight!"

He could see that, unlike most of them, Cordelia and Neras didn't have the best of student-teacher relationships and it didn't look like it'd get better any time soon. As long as they were fighting each other Cordelia wouldn't learn what she needed to in order to handle her new status as an Orion female and this wouldn't sit well with Neras. After all, Cordelia was in many ways the woman's inferior both in knowledge of her species biology as well twenty-fourth century technology. If some wet behind the ears Academy cadet talked to him the way Cordelia was talking to Neras and ignored common sense, there'd be stormy seas ahead.

Hopefully once the lass had more time aboard the Enterprise she'd see that it had much to offer and be more inclined to listen to Neras as well as the rest of them.

"McCoy to Copernicus. You there?" Doctor McCoy asked, tapping his com-badge.

"Here and waiting," Xander replied through the com-badge.

"What happened to Willow?" Elizabeth asked, sounding surprised that it wasn't Spock's 'daughter' waiting for them.

"Zoey wound up having to bring back her parents to convince them that she was telling them the truth," Xander replied, sounding concerned about that. "I figured Willow would make a better tour guide than me."

"Well, you're gonna be doing the second one, 'cause mom heard the story and says she's coming with us." Elizabeth said, turning to her mother for a moment before looking away.

"Okay," Xander said casually, without a speck of worry.

"Okay?" Elizabeth said with some surprise. "What do you mean 'okay'?"

"Well, I figure you and probably Giles already tried to talk her out of it but if you're telling me she's coming, that means she wouldn't budge," Xander replied as though it were all completely logical. "If G-Man and you couldn't get her to back down, what makes you think I can? I just figured I'd go with the flow and save us some time."

A sensible lad Xander was. It was never a good idea to stand in a woman's way when she had her mind set on something.

"In any case, seven to beam up," McCoy said, sounding like he didn't want things to be drawn out any longer.

"I'll beam four of you up and then the rest of you," Xander said, sounding like he was already getting a lock on the first group. "It'll give us time to clear the beam in coordinates for the rest of you."

"Understood," McCoy said before turning to the group. "Take Missus Summers, Cordelia, Giles and me first. Energize."

With that Doctor McCoy proved to be quite the smart man.

By taking Missus Summers and Cordelia up first he'd momentarily be introducing a break period in the latter's arguing with her teacher and shock the former into silence. With McCoy and Giles up there as well, the two most rational people among them would be in the perfect position to handle the ladies, making it just that much easier on the rest of them.

He owed the man a drink in Ten Forward later.

 _ **The U.S.S Enterprise 1701-D**_

 _ **Captain James Kirk's POV**_

"You wanted to see us, Scotty?" he asked as he and Xander turned the corner into main engineering.

What he saw was definitely not what he'd been expecting to see when he'd originally been called to engineering from his quarters. It'd only been a couple of hours since they'd all returned on the Copernicus and he'd taken the time to settle more into the quarters he'd picked out the night before. It was a little different using the replicators, as Xander had called them, rather than the food synthesizers he was used to, but it hadn't taken him long to get used to it. He'd been in the middle of decorating when Scotty had contacted him and asked that he come down to engineering immediately. Given that his friend and former chief engineer rarely summoned him without a good reason, he hadn't hesitated to say that he was on his way before leaving his quarters. He'd met up with Xander at the turbolift and had been a bit surprised to find out that Scotty had also summoned his apprentice to engineering.

As they'd walked he'd assumed that Scotty was just going to give them a status report or perhaps mention a concern that would need to be taken into account when choosing the crew's next course of action.

That was not the case.

"That is NOT a normal Federation warp core," Xander said, sounding like he was having trouble making sense of what he was seeing.

Not that he could blame the young man since he was feeling much the same way.

Ever since the first Federation starship to bear the name Enterprise had undergone a refit, the warp core's appearance had remained fairly consistent: a central pillar with up to two horizontal tubes feeding into it. The central chamber was where the reaction happened at regular intervals, giving off a blue light whereas the horizontal warp plasma conduits gave off a mix of red and white light.

What he was looking at now though were three blue pillars arranged in triangle formation with four main warp plasma conduits and several smaller secondary ones that he'd wager spanned the entire length of the three pillars. The three central pillars still pulsed in a familiar pattern but now the warp plasma conduits likewise pulsed in a predictable pattern. The various display screens arrayed throughout engineering were also different, showing information that was familiar to him only on a basic level. He was no slouch in the area of starship systems, and with every ship he was put in command of he'd done his best to familiarize himself with his ship's systems. Not enough to replace Scotty as chief engineer but enough that he could conduct basic repairs or be coached through more complex ones via a method of communication.

What stood before him now… he felt like first year Academy cadet again.

"No, it isn't," he said as he turned to face an obviously upset Scotsman. "What is this, Scotty?"

"Damned if I know, Admiral. I came down here an hour ago to get familiar with main engineering and THIS bloody mess is what I found," Scotty said as he led them to an array of consoles a few feet from the three pillars. "I've done some digging and, according to the main computer, it's called a hyper-warp drive. I've only just scratched the surface but if what I'm reading is right this ship can go roughly fifteen hundred times faster than a galaxy class should be capable of."

"WHAT!?" both he and Xander exclaimed as their minds struggled to comprehend such a massive boost in speed.

FLASH!

With a burst of light in front of them a man in a Starfleet captain's uniform with black hair and a rather condescending look on his face.

"Well of course it's faster!" the man declared as though it should've been obvious. "The ships in this reality are capable of going from one corner of your galaxy to the other in weeks at the absolute most. Your Federation starships would take decades to cross the same distance. I could hardly expect you to do an adequate job of keeping order here if you were stuck in a small fraction of it."

While his mind was still having some difficulty comprehending what he was being told, he did have to admit that, if it was indeed the truth, then upgrades to a standard Galaxy class starship would be necessary in order for them to be effective. Nevertheless, it was astonishing to know that with the engines they had now it'd be possible to visit all four quadrants of his native reality inside of a single human lifetime.

"Any other upgrades we should know about, Q?" Xander asked, sounding somewhat suspicious.

"Not really. Your main deficiency was the range of your ship but with this new hyper-warp engine that shouldn't be problem anymore," Q replied, trying to sound like he'd shown some restraint.

Finally he was able to put a face to the name of the person who'd whisked him out of heaven and given him a second chance at life. Appraising the man with the same eyes as every other stranger met under suspicious circumstances he could tell immediately that it would be wrong to take anything Q said at face value. Q did not see humans or any mortal race as equals. If he had to define it, he would say that to Q humans were on the same level as the first bipedal life form ever to walk on the planet Earth and that was probably being generous. Still, the fact that such a being would choose humans to handle the task of keeping the galaxy from blowing up had to mean that he had at least some respect for the human race.

Not a lot but enough.

"Even if that's right, it's going to take that much more time for Scotty and Buffy to master these hyper-warp engines," Xander said, pointing out a potential complication. "I wouldn't be surprised if this wound up doubling the necessary training time they'll need."

"That won't do,." Q said, immediately shoving the training aside like one would an amateur's attempt at science. "The American military is due to open the stargate in one week. If they get to Abydos before you… to put it in human terms, 'they will be the pebble that starts the avalanche'."

"There's no way we can be ready to head out in one week," he said, knowing that even trained Starfleet personnel needed more time to acclimate to a new class of starship with upgraded systems.

"Of course there's a way," Q said with a bit of disappoint before he brought up his right hand.

Xander seemed alarmed at this and moved as though he intended to stop Q but he was too slow, too far away. Q snapped his fingers and instantly his mind was knocked for a loop so hard he didn't even realize that he'd dropped to one knee or reached out with one hand to grasp the master systems display table. As awareness returned, other things began to pop up that had not existed before and all of it could be classified under one word: knowledge. With every second that passed he found he 'knew' things he was certain he'd never read about or put into practice in the field. By the time he was back on his feet he knew enough about the hyper-warp engines that he'd feel comfortable using them, as well as helping with repairs if necessary. Indeed he believed that the gap in knowledge that'd existed between the launch of the Enterprise-B and whenever the Enterprise-D had been plucked from had now been filled.

As such it made the headache he was now feeling mostly worth it.

"Let me just speak for all of us when I say… OW!" Xander said, looking like he was handling things only a little better than Scotty was at the moment.

"Oh, quit your whining!" Q said with irritation. "You're perfectly alright."

"If by alright you mean feeling like a someone detonated a warp core in my brain then yeah, I'm fine," Xander said, irritated before setting his eyes on Q. "Look, Q, I know we've got a big job ahead of us but you need to keep in mind that we're a little more fragile than you are. I'd appreciate it if you didn't make any more improvements without asking permission first."

"Fine!" Q said with a roll of his eyes in exasperation. "I'll ask you lesser life forms if you want me to make your jobs easier or not next time."

At least with fair warning they'd be able to sit down before being knocked for a loop.

"Thanks for the download, Q," Xander said honestly, sounding like he genuinely appreciated the benefits of the action the entity had taken.

This seemed to take Q aback, as though he had never been thanked like this before, but the expression quickly vanished to be replaced by a look of supreme smugness.

"It's about time that one of you primates showed some gratitude!" Q said condescendingly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, if you've got some spare time, there's something I'd like to talk to you about," Xander said, looking as though his headache was starting to subside.

"If I've got some spare time? Have you forgotten who I am?" Q asked as though he was beginning to doubt the intelligence of his chosen human helpers. "Still, I suppose it MIGHT be amusing to hear what you have to say. Let's talk."

With that both Q and Xander vanished in twin flashes of light, leaving just him as well as Scotty in engineering.

"What do you think the lad wants to talk to that cocky dobber about?" Scotty asked as he walked over to a nearby chair and sat down.

"I don't know but Xander has to have his reasons," he replied as he followed his old friend's lead.

"Here's hoping he'll tell us what they are later," Scotty said with a rueful grin.

He had to admit that he felt the same way.

It was beginning to feel like old times.

 _ **The Captain's Ready Room**_

 _ **Q's POV**_

With teleportation complete he turned to see what the human wanted to talk to him about. He had to admit that the boy was showing at least a little more promise than he'd been expecting. In almost all of his most recent encounters with humans they'd treated him with disdain, contempt and outright rudeness, with not one of them showing gratitude for his help. Vash had been fun for a while since she had such a different view of reality than the usual Federation dullards, but even she began whining in spite of the miraculous opportunities partnering with him offered her. He'd tried luring her back with even more tempting offers and interesting locales but she hadn't taken the bait, so he'd given up on her.

Would Alexander prove to be made of sterner stuff than his twenty-forth century counterparts?

"SO… what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, making it clear he would be put out if it turned out to be a waste of his time.

"Simple. This ship needs a crew to run it," Xander replied from his position in the chair behind the desk. "Even if you automate every system on the ship, eleven people aren't going to be enough for the job. Fortunately I've got a plan."

"This should be good for a laugh," he said sarcastically to mask his genuine interest.

"Since you brought Jim here even though he'd been dead, that means you can bring back the dead, so I figure why don't we take advantage of that?" Xander said, quite serious about what he was saying. "I've made up a list of people who've died that'd be great for the ship's crew. Bareil Antos, K'ehleyr, Kestra Troi, Jennifer Sisko, Noonian Soong, Rene Picard, Robert Picard, Peter Preston, Marla Aster, Sito Jaxa, Paul Porter, Peter Durst, Kurt Bendera, Marie Kaplan, Jadzia Dax, Jack Crusher and… Natasha Yar. The rest of the positions can be filled by people who're qualified and can be trusted."

"You've certainly chosen a rather diverse starting lineup. What makes you think they'll sign on?" Q asked, using his powers to call up the information on each person.

"Because you'll offer them the one thing they want more than anything right now: life," Alexander replied, sounding more confident by the minute. "They give us five years of duty or die the right way and you send them back to their reality just as they are. Alive, healthy and only a year or so after their 'death'."

"What do you consider dying the right way?" he asked, feeling intrigued by what the young man was proposing.

"In the line of duty or self-sacrifice. We'll make sure they know from the get go that any attempted suicide will get them sent right back to the afterlife." Alexander replied, the metaphorical wheels in his head spinning.

"What if they protest?" he asked as he began to see what the young man had in mind in more ways than one.

"If there's reasonable doubt then they'll be given a chance to plead their case," Alexander replied, conceiving an answer immediately. "If they win, they get a second chance at the grand prize, but if they lose its off to the afterlife with them."

"What if they try to die on a subconscious level?" he asked, pointing out a possibility.

It was a fact that lesser organisms could be influenced by their subconscious without realizing it, so it was possible that while consciously one of Alexander's crew would want to fulfill their five year requirement subconsciously, they might be influenced to 'duck out early'.

"We can schedule monthly sessions with Lwaxana Troi," Alexander replied after half a minute of thought. "She isn't a ship's counselor like her daughter but telepathically she should be able to tell if anyone needs watching."

Indeed, a full telepath would be able to ferret out any subconscious suicidal tendencies a crew member might have and hopefully 'adjust' them to something more acceptable. However he was wise to the young man's true intentions and it was time to call him on it.

"Perhaps she'll think that YOU need watching, Alexander," he said in an 'I see through your efforts' tone of voice. "Did you really think you could trick me into doing a good deed? Reviving the dead and sending them home to their loving families! As the saying goes, you'll have to get up MUCH earlier in the morning to pull one over on me!"

"I wasn't planning on tricking you. Letting you know about the fringe benefits was supposed to be the next reason why you should agree to my idea," Alexander said so honestly he had to mentally shake his head with incredulity. "If the reality where all this comes from is anything like the TV show, then the Federation pretty much universally sees you as a pest at least and a monster at most. I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of people blame you for the people who died at Wolf Three Five Nine since you made the Borg aware of the Federation and Starfleet. Doing this might put you back in their good graces, if only a little bit."

He almost immediately dismissed the notion since he couldn't comprehend how simply returning a few mortals could possibly make Jean-Luc and the others like him when time travel and rewriting their histories to benefit them hadn't come close. Still, humans were a mass of contradictions and it wasn't entirely implausible that he might have gone about handling them wrong. If Alexander's idea worked, he might actually be able to have some fun with some of his Starfleet acquaintances without their bellyaching about it.

That had some appeal.

Then again he did so love to see Jean-Luc's face turn that wonderful shade of red whenever the two of them met.

With a thought he made a coin appear in his hand and he decided to let chance decide which path he'd take. Flipping it in the air, he let it fall to the ground. If it landed heads facing up he would agree to Alexander's proposal but if it landed tails up he would refuse. After all, it would certainly be more of a challenge for his chosen officers to try to find their own crew from the assortment of prospects this reality had available. Watching the silver coin hit the floor, he looked to see which side was facing up and, much to his disappoint, chance had chosen to favor young Alexander this time.

"Well, it seems that fortune favors the fool this time, Alexander," he said as he thought away the coin. "The dead shall live again as members of your crew and, if they perform to the best of their pitiful ability, they shall be returned home to live out their lives."

"And it has to be the exact same reality where they once lived, no more than two years after they first died." Alexander said, sounding quite determined on that point.

Obviously the boy had seen enough of his look-a-like on television to know that he often obeyed the wording of the deal but not the spirit of the deal.

"Fine. They'll be sent back to the same reality, same plane of existence and no more than two years after their original demise," he said with reluctance and annoyance. "Spoil my fun!"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be amused soon enough, Q," Alexander said with optimism "After all, you're Q the mighty! There isn't a single situation you can't make more interesting! Just… give us some warning and a fighting chance to come out of the situation intact… please!"

He had to smirk a bit at the boy's words and came to believe that this might turn out to be his greatest game yet.

"Oh, don't worry, Alexander. Contrary to what Jean-Luc thinks, every one of my little games with him had the chance for him to defeat me," he said, letting the smirk grow into a grin. "He just needed to find it. So will you."

With that he snapped his fingers to take him out of the reality and back to the one he usually travelled in order to collect the crew Alexander had requested. For some it might've been a few days for him to successfully bring all two thousand of them back to life but for him he could do it in the space between seconds. He chuckled at the chaos the young captain would have to cope with but, considering what he'd seen of the boy's old life and how things would've gone without his interference, Alexander would manage just fine.

It was as he looked at all those that had died in connection to starships called Enterprise that he came across one that he hadn't initially considered. He almost dismissed it out of hand given how much fixing up he'd have to do, but then again the person he was looking at would help to bridge the gap between now and the twenty-fourth century.

Plus, if he allowed the man's spawn to be brought back as well, then Willow would at least have some company.

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _Well, of all the beds I've slept in, I'd have to say that this is one of the more comfortable,_ he thought as he woke up in the captain's quarters. _Here's hoping Q comes back today with the crew I need or changing the future's gonna be complicated._

Getting out of bed, he went into the bathroom, stripped out of his sleeping clothes before stepping into the sonic shower. It'd been a novel experience the first time he'd used it after moving onto the Enterprise and he'd still go with a water shower if it became available as an alternative. Nevertheless, since he presently didn't have that alternative, so he'd make due.

Once he was satisfied that he was clean he got out of the shower and picked up his sleeping clothes before putting them into the replicator to be recycled. They'd just been the first set of Starfleet pajamas he'd seen in the database that looked half decent. While the others might've been able to fit into the same night clothes they'd worn prior to Halloween, he'd grown up quite a bit both in overall size as well as in muscle mass. His old pajamas would've torn if he'd tried to wear them the first time he made a big move so he'd input his measurement parameters into the search and made a quick selection. Going over to the wall dresser, he pressed the button to cause the chosen shelf to pop out and he began to pick out the various components of his captain's uniform.

He'd considered replicating a Next Generation uniform, thinking it'd only have been fitting considering it was the Enterprise-D he was on, but decided against it. He'd never been able see the Next Generation as anything else but dual colored jogging suits. Even the variation he'd seen on the show Deep Space Nine were just jogging suits in his mind. At least with the uniforms shown after the second Star Trek movie looked like genuine uniforms, so he'd replicated a week's worth before storing them away in the dresser.

With speed born of secondary familiarity it didn't take him long to get fully dressed and he moved to the door to head to the bridge, since Jim was planning on starting his lessons as captain today. However, when the doors parted after sensing his approach, he beheld a sight that he hadn't been expecting: the hallway had people going up as well as down it that were not present the day before. It was only when he noticed that they weren't all wearing uniforms from the same time period that his mind realized the truth.

Sometime during the night Q had made good on delivering to him a crew and, while he didn't see anyone from his specific list, there was enough variation in gender and race to confirm that the rest of the crew positions had been filled. Personally he would've preferred it if he'd been notified the moment the new arrivals had flashed onto the ship but he could only presume that the night shift chose not to wake him.

 _Nice of them but just the same I'll tell them that I'm the co-captain here and I should've been told,_ he thought as he left his quarters behind and made his way to the nearest turbo lift.

"Bridge," he commanded to the audio sensors built into the interior that were connected to the ship's main computer.

As the familiar hum of the method of inter-ship transportation filled the air he wondered if Q had gone as far as to assign the new arrivals to their positions or if the omnipotent being had left that in his and Jim's hands. Thinking on it a bit, he decided that the 'superior being' reveled in making things harder for his human playthings, so doing something as nice as taking care of crew assignments would've been out of character. It'd probably be up to those who'd been aboard ship prior to the new arrivals to assign the heads of the various departments and sections, then leave them to pick their subordinates from what remained. It was unlikely that the higher being would've given them more crew than there were vacant positions, so it'd all work out in time.

Before long he arrived at the bridge and he beheld a sight that was both familiar and not at the same time: a bridge with every station occupied and its occupant diligently at work. Jim likely had taken to assigning the new arrivals as he learned of them to whatever position was both vacant and compatible with their prior 'work experience'.

"Captain on deck!" came a declaration from his right causing him to turn to the speaker.

What he saw was both familiar as well as not.

When he'd given Q his list of people he wanted to have as crew, he had included Lieutenant Natasha Yar because he felt that her death had been senseless. However the Lieutenant Yar currently manning the tactical station, the one that for much of the TV series had been manned by Worf, was not the same version. This version was the one from an alternate timeline where the Enterprise-C vanished from the battle over the Klingon world Narendra Three, causing a sharp drop in relations between the Federation and the Empire. So sharp that in that timeline the two governments were at war with one another, with the former facing imminent defeat at the latter's hands with the date of surrender being less than half a year away. The main differences between the two being a decidedly more ordered haircut, a silver belt with holster and a few other cosmetic changes from the mainstream uniforms.

"As you were," he said, not wanting to become the center of attention just yet.

Walking down the side ramp to the main area, his 'father' was in the captain's chair reading something on a data pad before looking up and smiling at him.

"Sleep well?" Jim asked, handing the pad off to a nearby ensign.

"Yes. Thanks for asking," he replied before letting his gaze drift about the bridge. "Anything noteworthy on the nightshift?"

"I think you know what happened overnight," Jim said, getting out of the captain's chair to stand before him. "Care to explain?"

"Sure but not here. In the ready room," he replied while gesturing to the captain's ready room. "We can spill the details to the crew after assuming they don't know already."

"Lead the way," Jim said with a nod towards the door on the left side of the bridge. "Lieutenant Yar, you have the con."

"Aye, sir," Natasha said with the utmost professionalism one would expect of a Starfleet officer.

It took only a handful of steps and a parting door before he and Jim were inside the ready room but he made sure to wait until the doors closed before he said anything.

"So… how surprised were you when our crew number jumped up by a couple of hundred?" he asked with a bit of amusement both in his tone as well as on his face.

"Quite a bit," Jim replied with a matching grin. "It's not every day ten people flash into existence in front of you and hundreds of others start calling asking for answers. What'd you do?"

"I knew we'd need more than just us to run the Enterprise and deal with the Goa'uld, so when Q flashed us away to have some privacy I told him about an idea I had," he replied even as he casually strode over to the fishbowl embedded in the wall of the room. "As you know in this reality you, your crew and everything you know is fiction. Well, I've been a fan of your 'fictional world' for a long time and never missed an episode. I saw many things, got to know many characters, and liked all of it pretty much. Still, there were a few characters I liked so much I was quite sad to see them go. SO… I figured why not see if I could get Q to give them another shot at life."

"He brought them back from the dead?" Jim asked, sounding astounded and a little disbelieving of what he'd been told.

"Dunno. Maybe he brought them back from the dead, maybe he just snatched them a split second before they were fatally wounded, replacing them with copies or maybe he just made exact copies of the originals and gave us those copies," he replied, postulating a few scenarios that to him sounded plausible. "Your guess is as good as mine. Whatever the case, the deal they've been given is simple: five years of duty aboard this ship or a suitably meaningful death. Manage one or the other and each of them will be sent back to their native reality alive and well a little while after they 'died'. Sounded like a good deal to me."

"And why would Q agree to this?" Jim asked, sounding like he was in the process of coming up with a few theories of his own.

"I told him that he might be able to get on the Federation's good side if he brought a couple of their best people back from the dead. Seeing as how most of Starfleet see him as a galactic pain in the ass at the moment, I thought he might be interested in changing that." He turned towards his mentor, "Besides that, I figured the chaos of dumping people Picard knew back into the mix would be entertaining enough to get him to agree."

"Well, I'd say it worked," Jim said with his amused grin evolving into a smile. "A ship wide crew count confirmed that, minus the civilians on board, we have a full complement of Starfleet officers."

"I figured as much with all the busy little bees buzzing about the bridge," he said, looking at the door leading to the aforementioned bridge. "Did they choose their own duty assignments or was that you?"

"I made a few choices but most of them just went with whatever station they used to be assigned to," Jim replied after a moment of thought.

"We'll have to figure out who goes where more permanently when we have the time but for now we'll let them work where they want to," he decided since he'd need to review the files of each crewmember before placing them where they'd do the most good. "So… how do you want to handle this? There can't be two captains."

"Don't worry. Most of the officers come from after my time so they've mostly decided to call me by my former rank of Admiral, so you'll officially be recognized as the Enterprises' captain," Jim replied, not sounding worried about the situation. "As for Scotty and the others, I'm sure they'll make it clear that you and your friends have final say on the important decisions. We're here to teach after all not lead."

"Rrright… because a ship full of trained Starfleet officers are going to listen to a couple of strangers who shouldn't be more than lieutenants or lieutenant commanders at their age," he said, somewhat skeptical of how the crew would react to orders coming from him or his friends.

"It won't be any different from getting new crew. They've handled it before. They'll handle it now," Jim said, not showing even a bit of pessimism. "Just do your best, listen to those with experience and it'll work out fine."

He hoped his mentor was right or he'd have a mutiny on his hands reward from Q be damned.

 _ **Enterprise-D Briefing Room**_

 _ **Willow's POV**_

It was just past mid-day when she arrived in the main briefing room to attend an official meeting of the newly established command staff of the Enterprise-D.

The purpose of the meeting was to set eyes on those who would share the duty of keeping the ship running smoothly and to officially discuss what their first move would be against the Goa'uld. She had spent some time reading entries in the ship's database concerning the Goa'uld System Lords and the methods they used to govern their respective territories. The part of her that was human likened the pretenders to true deities to be megalomaniacs that for centuries had directly or indirectly caused the deaths of billions of sentient beings. On moral grounds this conduct had to be opposed but the method of opposing the Goa'uld needed to be carefully determined so as not to exceed their ability to execute. She had several recommendations but she would wait until Xander outlined his plan before submitting her own ideas as alternatives.

Looking at the table, she identified those she could while committing the faces of those she could not to memory for later investigation.

The first she recognized as special emissary K'Ehleyr. The woman was a Klingon-Human hybrid who first appeared in the television show as an ally. In the episode a Klingon sleeper ship was about to become active crewed by Klingons that'd last been awake before their people had been at peace with the Federation. From what she recalled about the episode, K'Ehleyr chose to favor her human side rather than her Klingon side. That didn't mean that the woman didn't occasionally let her inner warrior out to play but it happened more by accident. Unofficially she was Worf's mate and the mother of their child, Alexander. Officially the woman had never publically acknowledged herself as anyone's wife and, when the conditions for doing so appeared, the character was killed off. Based on body language and facial expressions, the woman was mildly uncomfortable but that was understandable considering the present circumstances.

Finding oneself back among the living, in an alternate dimension that may or may not be similar to the one remembered, could unnerve the most stoic individual.

The next was a man in his mid-twenties that she almost mistook for Lieutenant Commander Data but, when she took note of his skin and green eyes, she realized he was a human, not an android. After reviewing her memories she concluded that this was most likely Doctor Noonian Soong, Data's creator, albeit a great deal younger than he'd been at the time of his death at the hands of his 'son', Lore. If an opportunity to speak with him later presented itself she would be interested in discussing his knowledge of cybernetics and how he came to create his android sons. The science of the Star Trek universe had fascinated her when she was human and her transformation into a human-Vulcan hybrid had not lessened this at all.

To his right was a woman she instantly recognized as none other than Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax. She remembered this woman because it was only four months ago that the episode aired that showed her being killed by Gul Dukat, who had been possessed by a Pah-wraith. It had been a momentous event since Jadzia had been a member of the main cast and had strong bonds to the rest of the main characters. It was therefore… gratifying… to see her alive once more. If her suspicions about what Xander discussed with Q turned out to be the truth, then she would do her best to ensure that the Grim Reaper would not visit her again anytime soon.

The remaining people she knew as those transformed by Q and the Halloween spell, along with those that had been summoned to act as mentors to the transformed. She presumed that the new additions had been selected due to their experience and potentially useful knowledge but there could be other reasons. It would be pointless to speculate further until she learned who had been the one to choose who would attend the meeting, so she suspended her pondering to be resumed at a later date.

"Now that Willow has arrived we can get started," Xander said from the seat usually occupied by Picard in the television series. "I know you've all got questions but we're a little pressed for time so I'll give you the summarized version. If you want to know more you can consult the ship's database. I'm pretty sure Q put most of what we'll need to know there."

"What do you mean 'most'?" Lieutenant Dax asked, sounding suspicious of the information.

"I'm not an idiot, Lieutenant. Q might say he wants to help but he's a trickster at heart," Xander replied honestly. "I wouldn't be surprised to find out that he 'forgot' to add some information to the database since it'd be 'fun' to watch us deal with it on our own."

"If he's omitted some facts perhaps he tampered with others," K'Ehleyr suggested with suspicion and a bit of hostility. "We have no reason to trust anything he's said or given us."

As much as the woman might dislike her Klingon side, it was interesting to note that her reaction to Q closely mirrored Worf's in many ways.

"Q might treat us 'lesser life forms' like toys for his fun but he's also helped the Federation," Xander pointed out, countering the Klingon-human hybrid's hostility. "If not for him Starfleet wouldn't have learned about the Borg until they showed up right on the Federation's doorstep."

"If it hadn't been for Q, the Borg never would've shown up at all," Lieutenant Dax stated icily, clearly remembering the number of lives that had been lost to the Borg.

"You do not know that. To my knowledge the Federation has never had a way to predict the expansion of Borg space or which star system it will invade next," she pointed out as she sat down in a vacant seat. "For all you know the Borg planned to invade the Alpha quadrant long before Captain Picard and his crew encountered them. The meeting may have accelerated their plans but that was likely a calculated risk. Better to learn of the threat ahead of time and hasten its advance than to have it arrive without warning."

Dax didn't have anything to say in reply to that and, before anyone else could speak, Xander launched into an explanation of how they all came to be in this dimension as well as the reason for the transference. He did not go into great detail, keeping his explanation short and concise, but made it clear that taking this reality down a different path was the primary mission.

"According to Q, Earth, or more precisely the American military, plays a major role in galactic events after they travel to Abydos for the first time. Things turn out okay for the most part," Xander said as current events came into the explanation.

"Define 'okay'," Doctor Soong said, sounding like he had his own ideas on that matter.

"Three galactic empires toppled, several deadly diseases cured and Earth becoming what could be called the dominant power in the galaxy," Xander said, keeping his statements a little too lean on details. "The empires in question were threats to human freedom, to say nothing of continued existence before you start implying that Earth becomes imperialistic and aggressive. I wouldn't be surprised if what they begin one day leads to this dimensions variation of the Federation."

"If the future turns out so amicably then why change it?" Dax asked with polite curiosity, apparently having shelved her mistrust of Q's intentions for the time being.

"According to Q they come close several times to obliterating this reality and potentially threatening several connecting ones. He seems to think we'd do a better job of handling future developments than they did," Xander replied as he turned to face the Trill. "Considering some of the mission reports from the team known as SG-1, I can't say I disagree with him. They did the best they could with Earth's current level of technology but combine those limitations with the current political landscape, both internal as well as external, it's a wonder they did as well as they did."

"So what's your plan?" K'Ehleyr asked with measured curiosity.

"Assuming no one comes up with a better one, I plan on using the Goa'uld's natural tendencies to our advantage," Xander replied before tapping the controls built into the table before him. "According to what I've read about them, they're almost constantly scheming against other to improve their status. Even with their ruler Ra keeping a loose semblance of order between them all, it's not out of the ordinary for these System Lords to go to war with each other."

"Wouldn't Ra intervene?" Dax asked, sounding like she was trying to put the proverbial puzzle together. "He wouldn't make a very effective supreme ruler if he just let them do whatever they wanted."

"From what I read, 'supreme ruler' basically translates to 'I have bigger guns and more warriors than anyone else'. He didn't so much keep the others from fighting one another as he did use his superior military might to overpower those weaker than himself," Xander replied, briefly pausing. "It read less like a group of feudal lords and more like a collection of criminal gangs vying for territory and resources. They only ever join forces when there's a common enemy to be fought and the rest of the time they scheme to kill their rivals or invade their territory. In Ra's case, he probably leaves the others to do whatever they want until it threatens what he considers his or he finds a way to benefit from intervening."

"So what do you propose we do?" Buffy asked from her seat next to Montgomery Scott.

"According to the reports of SG-1, it's the encounter with Ra on the planet of Abydos that starts everything. Ra learns that Earth's evolved enough to be a threat and SG-1 kill him as he tries to leave the planet. This causes a power vacuum amongst the System Lords and prompts the Goa'uld Apophis to personally travel to Earth to investigate resulting in the formation of the SGC," Xander replied as images of the various System Lords appeared on the screen behind him and a visual depiction of the System Lord hierarchy hologram appeared above the table before him. "I propose we orchestrate a chain of events to incite the Goa'uld to fight amongst themselves without letting Earth enter into things at all. Then, while they're fighting each other, we 'nudge' Earth and a few other potential allies in the right direction so that when they eventually do clash with the System Lords, the risk'll be cut in half. Maybe more."

"You're proposing that we interfere in the natural evolution of Earth and perhaps other alien worlds?" Dax asked rhetorically, opposition in her tone. "That would be a direct violation of the Prime Directive!"

"And if we were in the Federation I'd be worried about that but we're not. We're not even in the same dimension as the Federation," Xander said, not backing down in the least. "I understand that the directive is important to you but it's just not practical in this dimension. The rules of the Federation and Starfleet were made with the idea that both organizations would be there to support them and each other. That's not the case here and I'm not about to pretend as though it is."

Dax looked like she would say more but Xander beat her to the punch.

"I'm not saying I'm throwing the entire rulebook out the airlock," Xander said trying to formulate a compromise. "I'm just saying… we should treat them less like rules and more like guidelines. Follow them up to the point where they hinder our objectives more than help them and then we use our own best judgment on what to do next."

"And 'we' know better than two centuries of the most intelligent members of the Alpha Quadrant?" Dax asked with a challenging rise of her left eyebrow.

"Tradition and history should never stand in the way of trying new things," she replied, showing her support for Xander's proposition. "You along with the majority of the Enterprise's current crew are also being significantly compensated for your assistance. One would think it would be enough incentive for you to overlook any violations of Starfleet directives or orders."

"Are you saying you'll send us back without this 'incentive' if we refuse to turn a blind eye to your actions?" Dax asked, sounding decidedly less friendly at the moment.

"At the moment only Q can send you back and it's up to him if you go empty handed," Xander replied in an effort to defuse the conflict. "I'd certainly prefer it if everyone went home happy. Maybe we could use this initial mission as a test bed. Let me and my friends take the lead so we can show you how we plan on handling things. If you still have issues at the end, I'm willing to discuss alternative methods provided they prove effective. Is this acceptable?"

"It's acceptable," Dax replied, sounding like she'd be watching all of them with the utmost attention to detail.

Hopefully the Trill would not allow her devotion to the laws of the Federation and Starfleet to unfairly taint her final judgment.

It would be unfortunate if they were forced to return more crew to their native dimension than they could safely do without.

Automated systems could only do so much.

 _ **Governor Bartlet's POV**_

"This… this is unbelievable," he said as he looked at the room called Ten Forward.

"I know. It's one thing to see things like this on a TV show," Abbey said, sounding like part of her mind was still trying to come up with reasons not to believe what she was experiencing. "It's another to be right in the middle of it."

THAT was the mother of all understatements in his opinion.

On Earth (and BOY didn't it feel unreal to think that) he knew things about the world around him that only the extremely nerdy were aware of. This knowledge gave him a feeling of control, of purpose, that made him feel safe as he navigated each day. He knew what was and what wasn't possible. He knew how each piece of the puzzle fit together for the most part and anything he didn't know he could find a book that could tell him.

Here… it felt like he was a lone leaf being tossed about in a hurricane with only vague promises of safety and little control.

Zoey was in that environment.

"We have to talk with Zoey. Soon. Now, if possible," he said, going with his gut instinct.

"As long as it's talking as well as listening and NOT yelling, then I agree," Abbey said with a tone she always used whenever he was about to give someone a royal decree.

"There won't be any yelling," he said, trying to convey that the very idea that he'd yell at his own daughter was ridiculous.

Her look told him she wasn't buying it.

"I just don't think that our little girl realizes what she's getting into," he said, trying to get her to see his side of things. "She's going into space to fight against an empire of tyrants and God knows how many of their soldiers because a cosmically powerful alien told her to. She shouldn't have to do that! That's a job for the military!"

"If this Q is to be believed, the military did handle it and came close to blowing up all of creation," she said, pointing out the flaw in his statement. "As for realizing what she's getting into, I think she knows more than you think she does. She's been a fan of the Star Trek series since she was seven and has asked me to tape it for her when she couldn't sit down to watch it."

"She's a Trekkie?" he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice.

"She doesn't have Star Trek toys and collectibles if that's what you're worried about," she replied with a bit of an amused grin. "She can quote lines from her favorite episodes, though. I'd have thought finding out she chose a Star Trek uniform for Halloween would've given you a hint."

"When did she say she was dressing up in a Star Trek costume?" he asked as he tried to recall being informed of his daughter's choice of Halloween costume.

"The afternoon Halloween day? She called us and let us know what she'd be doing that night because you insisted on making sure she didn't get into any 'funny business' that you couldn't be around to stop," Abbey replied with growing amusement at his past actions as well as his ability to forget certain actions.

After hearing her describe what'd happened, he did vaguely recall that conversation over the phone but the fact that he didn't recall it with perfect clarity from beginning to end indicated how interested he'd been in the specifics.

"So you're saying that because she's seen the show she knows what she's getting into?" he asked, sounding somewhat dubious.

"That and she now has these… these… memories of someone else's life inside her head. A life sworn to a space faring organization aboard a spaceship," she replied, showing that she was still coming to terms with that fact. "I saw her show us around our room and teach us how to use a… a replicator. She knew exactly what she was doing and didn't hesitate. If the others are like that, too, then they know what they're doing. We should trust them."

"We should trust a group of strangers with fake memories shoved into their heads to look after our little girl? We should trust fake memories that let her run futuristic appliances to keep her safe on this ship?" he asked with some incredulity and skepticism.

"Yes, because if we try to tell her that she can't, she'll say that she will just to assert her independence," she replied in the tone she got when she was trying to make a point. "She's always tried to get people to see her for who she is and not the daughter of the governor of New Hampshire. This… this probably looks like the perfect opportunity to come into her own."

"No kidding," he said, thinking that his little girl could've chosen something a little safer and closer to home if she wanted to step out of his shadow.

He'd known the moment he'd chosen to embark on a political career that it wouldn't just be him that it'd affect but every member of his family. Anyone given the power to affect things on a state level inevitably came under the scrutiny of the press, as well as any political rivals, gained from taking office. It also meant that both groups of peeping toms would look into anyone close to him to any kind of dirt that they could use to their advantage. As a result, precautions had to be taken and certain individual freedoms curtailed for the good of the people he cared about. He knew that Zoey understood the need for this and that there were things that just a part of the package of being the daughter of a United States governor. However it was also understandable that she'd want to establish an identity she could call her own in addition to being the daughter of a United States governor.

He just didn't want her to establish it so far from home where he didn't have a prayer of helping her if she got into trouble.

"Besides, if she really has telepathy now, it's going to be impossible to lie to her, so you might as well be honest with her and try not to give her a headache by thinking too loudly." Abbey said with a bit of levity in her tone.

That was another thing he wasn't too crazy about.

Before he and Zoey were on even ground when it came to talking with each other in that neither of them truly knew what the other was thinking. Sure, they could use past discussions as reference material to try and hypothesize what was going in the other person's head, but it was still hit or miss. However, as he'd learned from his last discussion with her, the equilibrium was gone as she'd been able to effectively end half of his sentences before he could. It'd thrown him completely off guard and had ended with the two of them agreeing to meet in Ten Forward to finish their discussion on her occupational future.

"When did life suddenly get so complicated?" he asked at a volume only a little above a whisper.

"It's always been complicated. It will always BE complicated," she replied as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "A person handles one complication and life gives them a new one to deal with. The best anyone can do is use what they have to deal with each one as they come and hope that it'll get easier eventually."

He didn't like it but Abbey had a point.

"At least on board the Enterprise Zoey'll have a lot more resources to work with than most people and she won't be alone," she said, sounding confident in their child's safety.

Looking around the room at the various humans and aliens in uniform, he had to admit that, with over a thousand people on board and all of them trained to render aid to their shipmates, Zoey wouldn't come to harm easily. When he'd spoken with Captain Kirk and his protégé Xander, he didn't get the feel that they would be reckless with the Enterprise or the crew that served aboard it. With both of these facts taken into account he was moderately reassured about his little girl's safety but there was still that little handful of fear that wouldn't go away.

Noticing the door to Ten Forward open, he was pleased to see the object of his concern walking in and within seconds spotting him and Abbey before walking over to them.

"Sorry I'm late," Zoey said as she took a vacant seat at the table. "Missus Troi wanted to make sure that I could keep my mind quiet before she ended the lesson."

"Don't worry about it, honey," Abbey said brushing off the delay like it was nothing. "Your father and I were just enjoying Ten Forward."

"No, you were enjoying Ten Forward," Zoey said, turning to look at him with a knowing look on her face. "Dad was revving up his overprotective father engine."

This caused a spike of anxiety in him as his mind thought for a moment that his daughter had read his mind with her telepathy but then Zoey put a comforting hand on his.

"No, I didn't read your mind, dad. I just know you that well," Zoey said with the same smile she used when she'd managed to pull one over on him.

This dispelled his anxiety for the most part but it'd likely be an hour before it went away completely.

"Now would you like anything to drink before I show you around the Enterprise?" Zoey asked, moving things along to the reason why they were outside the guest quarters they'd been assigned to.

"Sure," he said, figuring a good drink would help settle his nerves.

"No," Abbey said right after, giving him one of her looks.

 _Damn. Ever since I got that diagnosis she's been watching me like a hawk,_ he thought with a disappointed sigh. _At this rate the only time I'm going to be able to eat or drink what I want is when she's visiting her folks._

"No," he said reluctantly as he turned away from his wife and back towards his daughter. "Let's see what the Enterprise has to offer."

With that the three of them got out of their chairs and proceeded to the nearest sliding door of Ten Forward and he brace himself for science literally centuries ahead of what he understood.

 _ **Captain's Ready Room**_

 _ **Enterprise-D**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _BEE-BEEP_

"Come!" he said as he continued to review the information on the Goa'uld Sokar.

The door to the ready room parted to reveal his security and tactical officer Lieutenant Natasha Yar and, judging from the look on her face, she had something serious to talk to him about. Truth be told he'd been expecting this once word got around the ship about what he planned to do and what he was asking them to do. All of them were from a universe, a time period, wherein the Prime Directive was considered to have the same weight as the Ten Commandments. True, if the crew respected and, in some cases, admired their commanding officer enough, they'd be willing to cross that proverbial line, but he didn't have either. So while their training had them doing their duty, it was only a matter of time before someone of sufficient rank approached him to try and talk him out of his plan. Quite frankly he'd been expecting it to be Jadzia since, with the Dax symbiote inside of her, she had more than enough experience to convince him to do just about anything. If he had to guess, Yar had been sent with the intention of hammering him with the strategic and tactical reasons why playing puppeteer with the galaxy was a bad idea.

In order not to seem like a captain who didn't listen to his crew, he'd keep an open mind and let her say what she wanted to say.

"How can I help you, lieutenant?" he asked, figuring that that was as good a way to open the conversation as any other.

"There's something I believe needs to be discussed further, Captain," Yar replied, sounding like she was solid in her position.

"I presume your referring to my plans for the ship's future?" he asked, feeling just as solid in his guess about the reason for the present discussion.

"Yes, sir," Yar replied before tensing up a bit. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted," he said, personally preferring honesty from those under him rather than something prepared or sugarcoated.

"I've been reviewing the data Q put into the database about the previous timeline and, while I agree that there were too many close calls connected to the SGC, I believe there's a simpler way of keeping Earth safe from them," Yar said, remaining at attention on the other side the desk. "We transport the stargates on Earth up to the Enterprise. If they never leave the planet then they can't encounter the Goa'uld and the System Lords never have a reason to visit Earth. As far as they know both of the stargates are buried in either ice or dirt."

"True. I take it this is out of concern for the Jaffa?" he asked after a moment of internal debate.

"Yes, sir. The file on them makes it clear that the System Lord's treat them like cattle, attack dogs, and don't care how many lives are lost in the pursuit of their goals," she replied, sounding like she'd put some thought into her words. "If we do what you propose, we'll be starting a multi-front war where countless Jaffa will die for their masters. They're conditioned from birth to treat the Goa'uld as deities and, when they come of age, their immune system is destroyed and replaced with a larval form for the Goa'uld. They're victims, Captain, and if we instigate a civil war we'll be as responsible for the Jaffa deaths as the System Lords they answer to."

Both the suggestion and the ramifications of his proposed mission plan were things that he had considered from the moment he gained a basic grasp of the galactic political landscape. For all the changes they'd been through since they'd been plucked from Earth and seeded amongst the stars, the Jaffa were still human beings. Like Tasha just said they were victims treated like cattle by the Goa'uld symbiotes calling the shots and would die by the thousands if everything went according to plan. Xander Harris might not be able to grasp numbers like that but the memories he'd inherited from the time Jim was in the driver's seat of his body filled in many of the blanks. After all, the Enterprise-D itself had a crew of over a thousand and some of the ships in the Star Trek universe were known to have ten times that number of people on board. While the Constitution-class Enterprise and her crew had primarily been a vessel of exploration, Kirk had more than a few memories of ship-to-ship battle where he was forced to destroy the enemy. Jim had read the after action reports and the lists of the dead.

With these memories he knew that instigating a multi-front civil war amongst the Goa'uld was likely to make anything Jim had experienced seem like small potatoes by comparison in terms of body count.

"I… did not come up with this plan arbitrarily, lieutenant," he said letting a bit of his true self slip past the professional demeanor he was trying to project. "I'd considered transporting up the stargates but there were too many potential problems."

"Such as?" she asked, wanting to know more probably to pass along to the others.

"Well, for one in order to beam them up we'd need to take the Enterprise back into Earth Orbit and scan for the present location of both stargates. The technology of this time period may be antiquated by twenty-fourth century standards but I think they'll still notice the Enterprise's approach and, with one of the stargates in the custody of the American military, they'll notice a beam out," he replied, putting forth his reasons. "Getting an eyeful of a supposedly fictional ship coming into orbit and having military property stolen out from under their noses will definitely get the undivided attention of just about every government with a satellite within range. In my opinion that would constitute a much greater violation of the Prime Directive than giving them a covert nudge from time to time."

"If you don't think the Enterprise can get close to Earth without being detected, how do you plan on 'nudging' Earth in the right direction?" she asked, looking like she thought she'd found a flaw in his plan.

"I've got three options on that point. The first involves letting them use the stargate to do some exploring. With the files that Q has provided concerning not just SG-1 but all the teams of the SGC, we have a pretty good idea of where they'll be and when. If we get there ahead of him we can arrange for them to meet some friendly alien colonists willing to share their advanced medical and technical knowledge with them. We can even sprinkle some tidbits of wisdom in with it to get people thinking about a unified Earth," he said, outlining the ideas. "The second option is to have engineering construct a working model of the phasing cloaking device developed by a secret group of Starfleet Security. While it might be illegal to exist in your native dimension due to the Treaty of Algeron, there's no law against using it here. There are no Romulans here to complain and it would let us approach Earth without being spotted. From there we could make sure that the right information got into the right hands to get things going in the desired direction."

"And the third option?" she asked with an unusual tone.

"The third option would be more long term and would involve Governor Bartlet. If we could give him historical data stretching from where history diverges between this universe and yours to the formation of the United Earth, he might be able to get the ball rolling." He felt a little more unsure about this one. "It won't be easy since there aren't any Augments running around and there hasn't been a third world war but I'm hoping that if he studies the history files on your Earth, he might be able to do something without those hellish experiences."

"Couldn't we just use the phase-cloak to get close enough to Earth to beam out the stargates?" she asked, pointing out a way to overcome the potential contamination of the human race.

"Unfortunately, based on what I've read about the device, we wouldn't be able to use the transporters while it was active. The phasing affect would destabilize the pattern of anything we tried to beam up," he replied, remembering his efforts to explore the device's possible applications. "Given the lack of knowledge about the interaction between the three variables, I don't feel we should tempt fate by dabbling."

Indeed, based on the files about the device, the crew of the Pegasus had only done tests on the ability to turn invisible and phase through solid matter. The mutiny of the crew occurred before any experiments could be conducted to see what would happen if they tried to use any of the other ship systems while the device was still active. One log entry made by the scientist in charge of the field test did contain some theories about what MIGHT happen and most of the possibilities were significantly dangerous to ship and crew. Given that this was officially his first command, he refused to put his ship or his crew in unnecessary danger.

He watched as Lieutenant Yar tried to come up with other reasons why they should avoid breaking the Prime Directive as well as possible methods of protecting Earth from the Goa'uld. In anticipation of a discussion like this he'd tried to explore the various options that'd allow his goals to be met while keeping his Starfleet crew amiable. Unfortunately most of the plans that abided by the directives and orders of Starfleet weren't very effective in the long term. Due to his limited resources as well as the fact that the Enterprise couldn't be everywhere at once, any Federation methods of resolving problems would be patch jobs at best. Without a ship willing to remain in a given area until the problem was completely resolved, they'd have to rely on those left behind to keep things going in the desired direction.

Considering that their enemy controlled a sizeable amount of space and regularly fought over territory, any help they provided the needy would last months at best before reverting.

"I know you're all… uneasy about going against your training," he said, hoping to put his security chief more at ease. "Going against something you believe in his never easy. All I ask is that you and the crew recognize that our present circumstances make strictly following the ways of Starfleet as well as the Federation impractical. If we're to survive and make any sort of difference in this dimension, we need to be able to move outside our comfort zones when necessary."

Yar seemed to think about his words for a moment and, if he was any judge of body language, she seemed willing to show some flexibility with regards to the rules.

How much flexibility would depend on just how far he wound up pushing the envelope and what the consequences of doing so turned out to be.

"I understand, sir," she said, apparently ready to wrap up the discussion.

"Then resume your duties, lieutenant," he said, taking on a tone more in keeping with a commanding officer. "Once we drop off Governor Bartlet and his wife we'll be heading straight for the Entac system. According to the database, the System Lord Sokar has plans to annex the system into his empire in the near future. That means he'll be sending scouts to learn all he needs to about it. We'll use that as our opportunity to obtain the needed incriminating evidence to plant in the Abydos system after destroying Ra's ship."

"What sort of evidence would you be looking for?" Lieutenant Yar asked, sounding like she planned on drafting mission details after she left.

"Ideally hull fragments from one of Sokar's ships, if not an entire ship. Convincingly damaged, of course, to suggest that the ship engaged Ra's vessel and destroyed it, only to succumb to critical systems failures. A few bodies of Sokar's Jaffa would be needed and we'd have to alter whatever records were on the ship to mesh with our version of events," he replied, having already considered the possibilities. "Depending on whether or not we can block any ship to surface transmissions between Ra's vessel and the Jaffa on Abydos, we may need to dispose of them in order to prevent any contradictory reports from making it to the other System Lords. If we do the job right, any System Lord that comes to investigate will have more than enough to place the blame for Ra's death on Sokar's shoulders."

"Which will spark the civil war you hope will keep them from going to Earth or noticing the activities of the SGC," Lieutenant Yar said, following that train of thought.

"Yep. Then all we have to do is make sure to keep ahead of their missions and make sure to scrub the planets they visit clean of Goa'uld and Jaffa presences," he said, showing his plan following the events in the Abydos system. "They might get bits and pieces of clues that something happened on those worlds but, without something more substantial, they won't go looking for trouble where there isn't any."

"And if you're wrong?" Natasha asked, more curious than argumentative.

"We'll be dropping a sensor satellite in the Terran star system keyed to look for hyperspace arrivals and ships matching those used by the Goa'uld. They'll let us know if there's any trouble," he replied, confident that the satellite would do its job. "Well, it will once we drop a few subspace amplifier satellites in the right spots."

He'd already sent a request down to engineering to have the amplifiers built, with every effort made to maximize their range since it'd take forever to establish a communications network capable of covering the entire Milky Way galaxy. If they could at least make one strong enough to reach the equivalent of five days away from Earth at maximum warp, he'd be satisfied.

"Very well, sir. It sounds like you've got things well in hand," Lieutenant Yar said, sounding like her curiosity and concerns were satisfied for the time being. "With your permission I'll return to my duties."

"Permission granted," he said with a nod of his head.

Watching as his security chief left, he couldn't help but feel as though there was something more he could say in order to reassure her that she could trust him.

What he came up with was honest but hardly the inspiring words of a competent captain.

"I know you do don't know me and I don't know you. Not well enough to trust one another," he said, causing her to pause just before she would have triggered the door's sensor, "but the one thing we both have in common is that we want to keep this ship and crew safe. That's common ground enough, right?"

"Yes… I guess it is," she replied before proceeding towards the door.

With a swish and a swoosh he was alone with his thoughts once more, hoping that he wouldn't screw things up.

Let this be the one thing he'd manage to get top marks in.


End file.
